


Common Ground

by Angstqueen



Category: CSI:NY
Genre: Angst, Domestic, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, September 11 Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstqueen/pseuds/Angstqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the fifth anniversary of the September 11 attacks, Mac and Sheldon find out they have a lot more in common than they could have realized. It opens the door for a relationship neither man knew he was looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Note #1: This story was started in early July 2006 and finished on September 6th that same year. When I started it, I had no idea it would take me so long to write but, in retrospect, it's perfect. With it being so close to the fifth anniversary of the attacks, the emotions were sharp and close to the surface for me. I dedicate this story to the innocent victims of 9-11, and their families. May we never forget.
> 
> Note #2: Originally published in the zine Jerry's Boy Toys by Neon Rainbow Press under the name Paige Aaron. My author's note above was written at that time but I felt it still appropriate to share.

Detective Mac Taylor checked his watch with a frown as he entered the conference room at One Police Plaza. Ten minutes late. Much as he despised running behind, he had been delayed at a crime scene. But he was determined not to miss this meeting.

This coming September marked the fifth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, and the mayor wanted to commemorate the event while still maintaining respect for the victims and their survivors. To facilitate this, he had set up a series of informal meetings with various groups in order to get feedback.

As he entered the room, Mac was not surprised to find that it was standing room only. Today's forum was open to law enforcement and he recognized several familiar faces.

Shock ran through him as his gaze rested on one particular man. Dr. Sheldon Hawkes, lately from the M.E.'s office, now one of his CSI's. They had worked together for years now and yet Hawkes had never mentioned it. Then again, the younger man had joined the M.E.'s office just after the attacks, Mac recalled.

He knew the events of that day had deeply affected the young doctor, but that was true of many other people too. Taylor dragged his attention back to the meeting, but part of his mind continued to ponder Hawkes' presence.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The meeting broke up two hours later, and Mac watched as Sheldon stood and made his way to the door at the back of the room. The younger man met his gaze as he approached, a small smile on his face.

"I had a feeling you were here," Hawkes said.

Mac nodded. The death of his wife, Claire, was common knowledge around the precinct.

As they walked out into the late afternoon sunlight, Taylor said, "I'm sorry. About your loss, I mean. I didn't know."

Hawkes nodded. "It's not something I talk much about."

Mac thought that had to be the understatement of the year. Sheldon hardly talked about anything personal.

They walked together to the nearest subway station, then Hawkes asked, "Do you want to go for coffee, or maybe get some food? I know a great little place down the block."

"Sure." Mac nodded, indicating that Sheldon should lead the way.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

As they entered the small cafe, Mac noticed it was nearly full. After a brief wait they were seated at a booth near the back. He found himself thankful for the relative privacy.

Once the waiter had taken their drinks order, Sheldon looked at Mac intently. After a moment, he said, "You can ask, y'know."

The other man shrugged. "I figured it was none of my business. If you wanted to talk about it you would have said."

"Fair enough," Sheldon allowed.

The arrival of their drinks brought conversation to a temporary halt as they also placed their food order. Promising it would be out shortly, the waiter hurried off to see to another table.

Sheldon concentrated on his glass of iced tea for a minute, tracing the patterns of condensation. Finally, he seemed to gather himself, taking a long breath.

"I had a twin brother, Tristan. We were fraternal, not identical, but we were close." Hawkes cleared his throat. "He loved numbers from the time we were kids just starting school. And he was good at them, too. Almost as good as I was. We went through elementary school together but when we got to junior high and they tested us, his grades were normal."

Mac nodded, knowing some of Sheldon's educational history. "So you were placed in the accelerated classes and he was in regular classes?"

The younger man nodded. "It drove a wedge between us for a while. Other kids couldn't believe we were twins since we weren't identical and we were in different grades, y'know? But once he was out of high school it didn't matter any more."

Their food arrived, and for a while both men concentrated on eating.

Halfway through his meal, Sheldon continued his tale. "Tris busted his ass and graduated early with a degree from Columbia School of Business. He'd done a summer internship at Cantor Fitzgerald and got hired there full time after graduation. By the summer of 2001 he was an up and coming trader, known for being aggressive and intuitive. He made a lot of money for his clients, and he loved his job."

Mac winced. "And he was there on the day of the attack."

"Yeah." Hawkes pushed his plate away. "Thing is, he wasn't supposed to be there. It was our parents' 30th wedding anniversary and we had made plans to spend the day at Monmouth Park, watching the horse races. But Tris called and said he'd meet us there, he had some business to take care of first." The younger man swallowed hard, recalling the memory. "Mom had one of the morning TV shows on. She was just about to turn it off when they broke in with word of the North Tower getting hit."

"I'm sorry, Sheldon," Mac said, gruffly. "I can't even imagine–"

"Don't, Mac." Hawkes shook his head, his expression pained. "We all lost people we loved that day. My loss isn't any different than yours."

The older man had caught the plural phrasing and his gut clenched. Studying his companion's face, he quietly asked, "Who else?"

"Pardon?" Sheldon looked confused.

"You said 'people'. Plural. Who else did you lose that day?" Taylor wondered.

The former surgeon swallowed hard. "My lover. And … not exactly that day. The strain of the attacks and trying to cope with our losses was too much for the relationship. We agreed it was better to split up before things got worse."

Mac heard the lack of gender pronouns but chalked it up to the younger man's intensely private nature. He marveled that Hawkes had kept this information to himself all these years. It was an incredibly heavy burden to carry.

Talk shifted to the upcoming memorial and their opinions on the mayor's plans. Both agreed some good ideas had come from the meeting and the day would pay respectful tribute to those lost.

Both men ordered coffee once the meal was done, sharing bits of their past history and discovering some commonalities. While Mac came from old money, Sheldon's parents were both tenured professors, and both had grown up with solid educations and most of the comforts money could buy.

Mac's decision to pursue a military career had caused the long-standing estrangement between himself and his parents. Sheldon admitted that walking away from being a surgeon had deepened an existing wedge in his family, though he didn't clarify further.

By unspoken agreement they kept clear of any discussion of their past loves. Both men seemed to realize it was a topic best left for another time and place. For the moment, those details were too personal for casual conversation.

Halfway through his third cup of coffee, Mac checked his watch. He was surprised to see that it was past nine o'clock already.

"Time flies," Sheldon observed, his trademark half-grin gracing his expression.

"It does, indeed." Mac smiled in return.

They paid the bill and headed out into the summer evening.

"Thanks for joining me, Mac. I had a good time." Hawkes shoved his hands in his pockets. "See you tomorrow at the lab."

Taylor nodded, watching as the younger man turned and disappeared into the subway station. He ruthlessly ignored the sharp stab of disappointment at the thought of having to spend the rest of the night in his apartment, alone.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"…and so it was Hawkes who realized that we'd been looking in the wrong place for the source," Stella explained, grinning as she handed over the case file to Mac. "Once we knew where and what to look for, the case was a slam dunk."

"Good job," Taylor said, looking over the details. He signed off on it before handing it back.

"You know, I had my doubts about him doing field work," she admitted. "But he's bright and willing to learn. He's a great addition to the team."

She left his office and Mac leaned back in his chair, pondering her words. He had entertained his own doubts about the young surgeon's choice to pursue field work but Hawkes brought a calm to the lab that had been lacking previously. In addition, he worked well with anyone he was paired with.

It had been just over a week since their dinner together and Mac found himself unable to stop thinking about it. He found he could recall almost every expression on the younger man's face. It was disconcerting, and yet at the same time, it made his heart race.

In Mac's experience, people who avoided gender specific pronouns when referring to a lover usually were in a same-sex relationship. He knew this wasn't always the case. And given Sheldon's innate self-protection it could mean anything.

Still, a man could hope, until and unless he discovered otherwise.

Taylor shook his head at his folly. He was acting like a schoolboy with a crush. But he knew this was more than that. He had liked Hawkes from the other man's first day in the M.E.'s office. Sheldon's quirky sense of humor never failed to make him laugh.

Hawkes was a gifted and learned man, and yet there was no arrogance with it. He shared his knowledge freely and was just as quick to admit to not knowing something.

I'm over-thinking this, Mac realized. Trying to justify what it is about him that I find appealing.

Appealing? Had he just thought that? Mac sighed heavily, knowing he was treading in dangerous water.

A rumble from his stomach made him check his watch. To his surprise, he saw that it was long past time for dinner, and it had been many hours since lunch.

Pushing his chair back, Taylor stood and walked out of his office. As he passed by the lab, he could see Sheldon still at work, a frown of concentration furrowing his brow.

Before he could second-guess himself, Mac stopped in the doorway and cleared his throat. When Sheldon looked up and smiled, Mac felt his stomach lurch. He tried to ignore it.

"Stella told me about the case. That was a good catch, Sheldon."

"Thanks!" When Mac didn't move on, Hawkes asked, "Something else, Mac?"

"I was just wondering–" Mac had to stop to clear his suddenly dry throat. "I'm headed out to get a bite to eat. Care to join me?"

"Love to! Didn't get much breakfast and I totally forgot about lunch." Hawkes rubbed his stomach as he headed for the lab door. "I need to start thinking about stocking the fridge here with some fruits and vegetables."

"I wouldn't be too quick to do that, if I were you," Mac cautioned, a wry grin on his face.

"Why?"

"Because either Stella gets to them first or the techs use them for science experiments," Taylor explained. "She's especially fond of grapes and kiwi."

Sheldon chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind when I go shopping."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Like the last time, dinner was a relaxed meal. This time they shared work stories. Mac recounted some of his more humorous recollections of boot camp and Sheldon talked of medical school and the pranks played on first year med students.

When they finished their meal they headed outside, neither man wanting to spend more time indoors today – the heat of the day still lingered, but without the humidity of high summer.

"You grew up in Chicago, right?" Sheldon asked, as they walked in the direction of Central Park.

"I did. Beautiful city." Mac glanced at his companion. "What about you? Native New Yorker, right?"

"Damn. And I tried so hard to lose the accent!" Hawkes grinned widely.

Mac chuckled. "It's not that so much as your familiarity with places and local culture."

"I'm curious. What made you choose New York over Chicago when you got out of the military and became a cop? You could've done just as well in Chicago."

"Yes, I could have." A dark expression briefly flickered over Mac's face. "But I'd already met Claire by that time. Her family… her life… it was all here in New York City. Since I wanted to be with her, I made it my home, too."

"God, Mac… I'm sorry." Sheldon's expression was stricken with remorse. "I shouldn't have–"

"What? Asked?" Taylor gently shrugged. "How else do we learn about other people, after all?"

"Yeah, but–"

"No buts. Claire was a big part of my life for a long time, Sheldon. I still miss her, but I miss not talking about her, too. Most people… they look at you with pity and pat your arm and move on. Like they're afraid."

Sheldon nodded. "I think they are. Like death is contagious, or something. You and I? We know better."

Once again, it was long past sunset when they parted. And this time Mac didn't even try to deny the fact that he was unhappy to be returning to his empty apartment.

He briefly considered visiting Tommy's Lounge, one of the upscale gay clubs uptown. He knew he could go there and be anonymous. But experience had taught Mac Taylor that when he wanted something…someone specific, no replacement would satisfy.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and headed for the subway that would take him home.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

In the past ten days Mac had done everything possible to make sure that he and Sheldon didn't work any cases together. Not that he didn't want to, he just didn't trust himself around the younger man.

However, when a call came in regarding a possible arson death and everyone else had fresh cases, Mac knew he had no choice but to pair up with Hawkes. The younger man was next up on the rotation.

Stopping by the lab, Taylor said, "Hawkes, we've got an apartment fire with a body. Grab your kit; you're with me."

Fire scenes were among the worst crime scenes to process. What the heat and smoke didn't destroy, the water usually did.

As the two CSI's entered the apartment, a uniform directed them to the single bedroom. Their victim lay on his stomach on the floor, charred beyond identification. Something near the mouth caught Sheldon's attention. Taking out his tweezers, he knelt down to examine the object.

"Hey, Mac–"

He never got a chance to finish his thought as a section of ceiling came crashing down upon him and pinning him to the victim. The smell of burnt flesh permeated Sheldon's senses and his eyes watered as he fought his gag reflex. He tried moving, only to find himself trapped.

"Sheldon! Just stay still!" Mac commanded. "We'll get you out of there in a moment. Just don't move."

Good advice, the younger man thought dimly. He knew he wasn't seriously hurt but he was definitely going to feel the results of this in the morning.

It took several minutes before the weight on his back lessened. Sheldon could hear the firefighters and rescue personnel talking as they cautiously began removing the debris. Even trapped as he was, he still had a partial vantage point of the scene.

"Hey, Mr. Tan Boots… watch to your left, man! There's potential evidence right next to your foot."

Mac fought down a chuckle as the firefighter scowled. But to his credit, the man noted the item and carefully avoided it.

"Thanks!" Hawkes called out.

He sounds okay but I'm not going to relax until I can see that for myself, Mac realized. He stayed back out of the rescuers' way, keeping an eye out for any further evidence. Given the amount of debris that had fallen he was amazed the younger man was still conscious, let alone capable of coherent thought.

Finally the last of the debris was cleared away. Sheldon rolled free of the burn victim and lost the battle with his stomach. He looked totally miserable.

"Where are those EMT's?" Mac shouted, kneeling next to him.

"I'm okay… 'm okay," Hawkes rasped. He glanced over at the victim. "But I contaminated the scene. I'm sorry, Mac."

"Forget the scene. Your health is more important. Besides, we weren't likely to get much from the body anyway. And you're not okay." Taylor frowned as he noted the bleeding head wound and saw the bloody back of Sheldon's shirt.

"It's just a few scratches, nothing major," Sheldon insisted, climbing to his feet.

Mac stood just in time to steady the younger man when he swayed. He held on for several moments while Hawkes got his balance. God help him, it felt so good, even in a situation where it shouldn't be something he noticed.

"You still going to try to convince me you're okay?" Mac demanded sternly.

Sheldon touched two fingers to the cut on his head, wincing slightly. "It's not that bad–"

At that moment the EMT's entered, guiding a stretcher.

"Oh, hell no! I do not need a stretcher and I do not need to go in the ambulance!" the former M.E. protested.

"Hawkes–"

"Come on! I'm a doctor! I'd know if I was injured," Hawkes continued to protest.

"Dr. Hawkes, are you familiar with the acronym RHIP?" Mac asked, his tone as cold and stern as he could manage. "As a board certified physician, you should be well aware that when there's any indication of head injury, medical clearance is needed before a return to work."

"RHIP?" Momentarily confused, Sheldon quickly realized the meaning and groaned. "Let me guess? Rank Has Its Privileges?"

"That's right. And the fact that you're bleeding all over my crime scene is just one of the reasons I'm sending you to the hospital." To the EMT's, Mac said, "Get him out of here. And make sure he gets checked out. I'll send one of the officers along if I have to."

The defiance left Hawkes like air from a deflating balloon. He knew Mac wasn't going to give on this issue. And the rational portion of his brain reminded him he would insist on the same thing, were their positions reversed.

"Okay, I'll go." He let himself be helped to the stretcher and sank onto it. "I just have one request… can you do a partial recline? I get motion sickness otherwise."

Mac shook his head in exasperation as the younger man was finally wheeled out of the room. Had he always known Hawkes was so stubborn?

He processed the scene as quickly as possible, telling himself his anxiety was the concern of a supervisor for his employee, knowing just as well that was bullshit. But either way, he was still worried.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Detective Taylor? Dr. Cullen would like to speak with you; if you'll come with me?"

Mac had been waiting for well over an hour for word on Hawkes, so he followed the nurse without hesitation. He had expected to have answers when he got here, since he knew Sheldon had arrived more than two hours ago.

She showed him into a curtained cubicle, where he found Sheldon stretched out on his side, eyes closed. A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and a beard to match stood next to him, making notes on a chart. His lab coat and stethoscope indicated to Mac that he was probably the doctor in question.

"Ah, Detective Taylor? I'm Dr. Cullen." He looked up at Mac, giving him a wry smile. "Mr. Hawkes here insists on going home tonight. I'm hoping you can persuade him otherwise."

Sheldon cracked open one eye. "I'm not staying."

"Hold on a minute! I didn't think his injuries were that serious," Mac said. "Will somebody please fill me in?"

"The lacerations in and of themselves are nothing too serious. We cleaned and stitched them and they should heal without problem," Cullen explained. "What concerns me is the head wound. Although I'm told Mr. Hawkes didn't lose consciousness, he still sustained a blow to the head and should be watched for signs of trauma. These don't always present immediately following an injury. And since Mr. Hawkes lives on his own–"

"Come on, Eric! You know I know the signs. I'll call if there's any problem, I promise."

"Doctors make the worst patients, and should be sued for malpractice when they try to treat themselves," Cullen retorted.

"You two know each other?" Mac realized it shouldn't surprise him. Although New York was a big city, it made sense that sooner or later they'd run across someone who had once worked with Hawkes from his surgical days.

"Eric was my attending during my residency," Sheldon explained.

"And I see he's gotten no less stubborn over the years," the older physician quipped.

"What if he stays with me?" Mac questioned. "I was a Marine and I have some EMT training. I know the warning signs."

"What?" Sheldon sat up abruptly, swaying until he found his balance. "Mac, no, I can't put you out like that."

"I think that's a fine idea." Cullen spoke as if he hadn't heard Sheldon. "Bring him back here immediately if you think there's any problem. Otherwise, just keep him quiet in between neuro checks and give him Tylenol for the aches and pains."

"'He' is right here in the room, and knows exactly what to do," Hawkes groused. "But I guess if it gets me out of here, I'll deal."

"Thanks, Doc." Mac shook hands with Cullen.

"I should be the one thanking you," the older physician said, his eyes alight with humor. "When word got out that Sheldon might be a patient I heard that two nurses called in sick!"

Mac coughed to cover his amusement and avoided looking at Hawkes.

"Man thinks he's a comic… shouldn't give up his day job," muttered Sheldon as he watched Cullen leave.

"C'mon… let's get out of here." Mac guided his companion toward the exit.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

It took about forty-five minutes to make the drive to Mac's apartment and the ride was made mostly in silence. Sheldon supposed it was partially because he kept his eyes closed, discouraging conversation. Some of that was the headache but mostly he didn't want to focus on Mac.

Sitting this near the other man was maddening. How was he going to handle an entire night in Mac's apartment? Torture. The gods were laughing at him; that had to be it.

Sheldon had long ago admitted to himself that he had strong feelings for Mac Taylor. The man was a walking study in contradiction. He could be gruff and curt and in the next instant he was gentle and compassionate, depending on the circumstances. He was loyal to a fault to his employees, and from what Sheldon had seen that loyalty extended to the grave and beyond.

The fact that he was also hot as hell just complicated matters. As many times as Hawkes had tried to convince his libido that Taylor was straight, the man still featured prominently in his fantasies and dreams.

There were times, like today, when Sheldon allowed himself to hope that the concern and affection he heard in Mac's voice meant something on a personal level. Stupid, he knew. It made no sense to get his hopes up when there was zero possibility of them ever being fulfilled.

But experience had taught him that hope grew in even the most daunting atmosphere. Until he knew for sure that Mac was out of reach, Sheldon decided he would continue trying to get to know the man better.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Once inside the apartment, Mac showed Hawkes to the guest room with instructions to make himself comfortable. Upon realizing his guest had nothing to change into, the detective headed to his own bedroom. Reappearing a moment later, he handed over a sweatsuit.

"It'll probably be big on you, but it'll do for now," Mac said. "Why don't you get some rest? I'll wake you up in a couple of hours for dinner."

"You don't have to–" Sheldon cut himself off, knowing how his companion would answer. "Okay, but please don't go to any trouble. I'm not fussy."

There was an odd light in Mac's eyes, but he merely nodded and closed the door behind him as he left.

Feeling more tired than he cared to admit, Sheldon took the advice and stripped before crawling under the covers. A sudden thought made him swear softly and he rolled over toward the nightstand, where he'd left his wallet, cell phone and keys, muttering the whole time about head injuries and distractions.

Reaching out, he grabbed the cell phone and activated it. When it had powered up, he hit a speed dial number and waited impatiently for the call to be answered.

"Terry? Hey, it's Sheldon," he began. "Listen, I'm sorry to ask so last minute, but I really need a favor–"

A few minutes later, everything taken care of, Hawkes turned off the phone and finally allowed himself to relax into much needed sleep. Figuring out what to do about Mac would just have to wait until he'd had a chance to recoup from the head injury.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Knowing Sheldon would feel more comfortable in his own clothes, Mac considered his options. He really didn't want to leave the injured man on his own for the length of time it would take to pick up his overnight bag from the lab's locker.

So that left someone from the team. Lindsay still got lost on her own in the city, though she was doing much better. Danny would help him out but his time was stretched between work, caring for his brother and helping Don in the aftermath of the bombing. That left Stella. And while Mac knew she would jump at the chance, he also knew he was leaving himself open to her special brand of interrogation.

Gritting his teeth, Taylor picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Stella chose not to wait for the ancient elevator, instead opting for the stairs. It was good exercise, she reasoned.

As she jogged upward, she reflected on the reason behind this visit. She had, of course, heard of Hawkes' injury and she was very relieved to hear that he wasn't seriously hurt.

When Mac had called to ask her to bring Sheldon's duffle bag from his locker, she had readily agreed, asking which hospital. To her surprise, Hawkes wasn't in a hospital. Instead, he was going to be staying with Mac.

That shocked her. Stella could count on one hand the number of times Mac had ever done something like this. Actually, less than that, because he'd never taken in anyone from the team before.

So what made Sheldon different?

She had seen the way the younger man occasionally studied their boss when Mac wasn't aware. Stella Bonasera was no fool, either. She'd bet a month's pay that Hawkes was at least bi, possibly gay.

But Mac?

Stella wasn't so near-sighted as to believe that a man who'd been in the Marines and married for years couldn't be at least… flexible in his sexuality. And if Mac was, who better to be with than Sheldon Hawkes? If he was picking from lab staff, that is.

Continuing up the stairs, Bonasera considered the other options. Don and Mac? Possible, she supposed. Similar backgrounds, but very differing temperaments. God, they'd certainly look hot together.

Danny and Mac? That one made her shudder. Dynamite and a spark, resulting in a nuclear reaction.

Mac and Lindsay? That one she quickly discounted. Too much like a mentor/student relationship to be healthy.

At one point she might have considered herself in the short list, but she and Mac had both realized a long time ago that they would be better friends than lovers. To pursue anything more would ruin what they already had.

God knew Mac spent little time outside of the office pursuing a personal life. He hadn't always been that way, but it had been getting worse since the 9/11 attacks and Claire's death. There were days she wondered why he bothered keeping up the rent on his apartment; he spent that much time at the lab.

Mac needed someone to love again, and to be loved by, someone who understood the job and its drawbacks and dangers and who wouldn't be freaked out by that. From what she had seen of Sheldon Hawkes, he could be that person.

She'd have to keep an eye on both men. If her suspicions were correct about a mutual attraction she would have to tread carefully. Too much interference and they'd both bolt like spooked animals. Left on their own? Well, they were men, after all. Nothing would ever get accomplished!

Smiling, she ran up the last few stairs to Mac's floor, pulling open the fire door.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac decided against his usual after-work shower, reluctant to wake his guest. He settled for stripping down and changing clothes. It wasn't the same, but it would do for now.

A rumble from his stomach reminded him it had been a while since his last meal. Taylor frowned, wondering what his choices were. As he headed for his kitchen, he heard a knock at the door.

Detouring to the living room, he checked the peephole before unlocking and opening the door to admit his guest.

"Stella… Thanks for getting that here so quick," he said, greeting his long-time friend.

"No problem." She handed over the duffle bag. "So is Hawkes really camping out here for the night?"

Mac tried to give her his best intimidating glare, but he knew it would have little effect. She'd known him too long now and was mostly immune.

"He's staying here, yes."

"What… all the beds in the hospital were full?" She smirked, knowing she'd hit a nerve.

"Stella," he growled, hitting her with the glare again.

The Greek woman shrugged. "So where is he?"

"Resting." Setting the duffle bag on the couch, Mac headed for the door. "But not for much longer with you around."

"Ouch! That was harsh." She pursed her lips in an exaggerated pout. "So is he in the bedroom?"

"Yes, he's in–" Mac broke off, seeing her grin again. "–the guest room, Stella. What did you think? I'd stashed him in my bed?"

"Well, he's young and very attractive, Mac. Why not?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

To his dismay, Taylor felt himself blushing. Stella caught it too and laughed with glee.

"Out," he growled, not playing this time.

She sensed it too, and rolled her eyes. "Touchy! Okay, I'm going."

He followed her to the door, intending to lock it behind her.

As she walked out, she sing-songed, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Mac!"

The detective just barely caught himself from slamming the door.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac took a moment to steady himself before trying to remember what Stella had interrupted. The woman was maddening. What was worse she knew it, took advantage of it and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Admit it, Mac, you enjoy it most days too, as long as it's not directed at you. It was true. Stella knew where the lines were and usually didn't step too far over. Just enough to get her wrist slapped.

But what the hell had she seen that made her pursue the track she took tonight? After a moment's thought, Mac groaned. Of course! The fact that Sheldon was here rather than in the hospital, or at his own apartment. He might as well have sent up a flare.

Too late to do anything about it now. Whatever she suspected, the more he denied the more she'd believe she was right. He had no intention of letting her know just how right.

Recalling that he'd been about to check on his food stock, Mac walked into the kitchen. Pulling open the refrigerator door, he frowned. There really weren't a lot of choices since he tended to eat most meals from a takeout bag or delivery.

But he could do breakfast. He had eggs and milk. And some cheese. An omelet would be good… with some bacon and toast.

Another knock on the door distracted him, but this time he welcomed it. He knew who it would be. An anxious whine and scratching on the other side of the door confirmed his thought and made him smile.

Double-checking the peep hole, he quickly undid the locks and opened the door. His downstairs neighbor, Jim Sawyer, stood holding a leash. And at the end of that leash was a very excited Australian Shepherd.

"Hey, Jim. How was he today?" Mac reached out for the leash, then shook the other man's hand gratefully.

"Fine, as usual. We spent the afternoon up on the roof. I can let him run around and not worry about having to find him, then." Jim knelt down and reached out for the dog, who happily licked his face. "I swear he could be a guide dog, Mac. He steers me clear of anything that's in the way."

Jim Sawyer had lost his vision twenty years ago in an industrial accident. While he had some light perception he relied on his wife and a cane to get around. He could easily get a guide dog but had always refused, saying they were better saved for folks who needed them since he seldom went anywhere without his wife.

Now forty and on disability, Sawyer could often be found doing odd jobs around the apartment building, which the grateful owner deducted from the Sawyers' rent. He was handy with a wrench or pair of pliers, despite his lack of sight.

He had been doing a job on Mac's floor one day when Taylor had been delayed at work. Hearing the persistent barking of a dog from inside, Jim had later made the offer to care for the dog whenever Mac needed.

Wary of giving a stranger access to his apartment, Mac had invited the couple to dinner. His busy schedule prevented him from meeting many of his neighbors and until now, he had never encountered the Sawyers. Cole had immediately taken to the couple, and Mac had found himself impressed as well.

Erin Sawyer worked as the office manager for a large insurance company. She was gone during the week from seven in the morning until often seven at night. Jim helped her out by doing the dishes and vacuuming their apartment in addition to answering maintenance calls.

At one point when Jim was in the bathroom, Erin quietly explained that her husband had been a top-notch mechanic when the accident had occurred. After his recovery from the burns, another company had offered him on-the-job training, but knowing the change in technology that was occurring, Jim had hesitated. Before he could make a decision he had suffered a major heart attack, and had never returned to work after that.

Mac admired the man. Rather than sit around and wallow in self-pity he had found a way to be useful and still contribute to the household. Jim and Erin were an honest, hard-working couple, and his instincts told him they could be trusted without fail.

He agreed to call Jim whenever work kept him from Cole too long, with the stipulation that he would pay Jim for the trouble. At first the other man had protested but Mac wouldn't hear otherwise, stating that he could not accept gifts, because he was a cop. He reminded them if he got the services of a dog-walker, he would still have to pay. It was only fair.

That had been three years ago and the arrangement had eased Mac's mind. Not only did he have someone to look in on Cole, Jim brought up his mail and paper so that anyone taking note would have no reason to doubt the occupant wasn't home.

A true friendship had grown between the three of them and it wasn't uncommon for Erin to bring Mac a home-cooked meal, or for Mac to join the couple for dinner. Cole was happy with the attention and looked out for Jim as if he had been trained to do so.

"Yeah, he's definitely a special guy," Mac agreed, ruffling his dog's fur and grinning at the enthusiastic greeting he got in return.

"Given the day you've had, I'm guessing cooking isn't in the cards," Jim said as he stood. "Erin has lasagna in the oven, and you're more than welcome to join us."

"Thanks, Jim, but I really can't tonight," Mac said regretfully. "I've got an injured friend staying with me and he's not up to going out. Tell her I'm sorry I missed it, though."

"Will do. See you around!" With a wave, the man walked unerringly for the elevator.

And although Mac knew he didn't need to watch, he nevertheless didn't step back inside his apartment until the elevator doors had closed behind his friend.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sheldon woke slowly, trying to orient himself. His head pounded, and he had no idea where he was other than the fact that he wasn't in his own bed. Not a hospital either. So… where?

He sat up and rubbed his head, grimacing as his hand encountered the bandage. Oh yeah… the arson scene. Ceiling collapse. Right.

Full memory returned in a rush as he recalled that Mac had brought him home from the hospital. Home to Mac's apartment.

That made Sheldon's heart race, and he took a steadying breath. He tried to tell himself it didn't mean anything special. Mac was simply looking out for a co-worker. But somehow Sheldon doubted Mac brought that many people back to his apartment, and certainly not for the night, lover or not. He shook his head. Why was he thinking this? It was none of his business.

As he got up and dressed in the sweat suit Mac had left, Hawkes realized he could smell food cooking – bacon and eggs, to be precise. His stomach growled, rebuking him for his neglect.

Sheldon tried to focus on that, rather than the thought of Mac and his motives. What motives? Why did the man have to have a motive for his kindness?

Because you know Mac Taylor well enough to know that he's a very private man and this is not his usual behavior.

But did he really know Mac that well? Sheldon wasn't sure. He wished he did, though.

Taking another steadying breath, he opened the bedroom door and stopped short, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cole's sharp bark alerted Mac that his guest was awake. Realizing that he hadn't told Sheldon he owned a dog, he turned the burner off and hurried down the hall.

Sheldon stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the dog. Cole sat patiently, looking between his owner and the stranger.

"It's okay, Cole. He's a friend," Taylor assured the dog. To Sheldon, he said, "This is Cole. Sorry, I forgot to mention him earlier. Is he going to be a problem? He's not aggressive. Just let him get to know you on his terms, and he'll be fine."

"Uh, no… no problem." Hawkes shook his head, still clearly surprised. Then something else caught his eye and he couldn't help grinning.

"What?" Mac frowned. "Do I have egg on my face or something?"

"Or something," the younger man chuckled. Mac's glare just made him laugh harder. When he could finally get the words out, he gasped, "Nice apron!"

Taylor flushed and groaned inwardly as he looked down at the frilly pink apron with "Don't laugh! I'm getting in touch with my feminine side!" emblazoned on it. It had been a gag gift from Erin last Christmas and was the only apron he owned.

"Ha ha. Thanks, Hawkes." Mac couldn't help his own small grin. He knew he had to present a pretty funny picture. "When you're done laughing, dinner's on the table."

Sheldon followed his host out to the kitchen/dining area. There was a small round table set for two, and Mac indicated for Hawkes to choose a seat.

"How are you feeling?" Mac asked as he dished out the food.

"A little stiff and sore," the younger man admitted, surprised at himself. "But nothing I can't handle. You really didn't have to do this, Mac."

As Taylor set a full plate in front of Sheldon, he said, "I had to eat, and it was no problem to cook for two." His set expression made it clear he knew exactly what Hawkes had meant and considered it a closed subject.

Once he had filled his own plate and taken the seat opposite Sheldon, Mac said, "You seemed a little off-balance when you saw Cole. You sure he's not going to be a problem? I can make other arrang–"

"Mac, no!" Upset the other man would even consider that, Sheldon quickly explained, "I'd just woken up, wasn't sure where I was. And then I opened the door and saw an Aussie. I thought for a moment it was Molly, my dog."

"Wait a minute." Mac's expression showed his disbelief. "Your dog… You have a dog and she's an Aussie, too?"

"Yep." Sheldon nodded, then his expression clouded. "She actually belonged to Tristan. Never thought I'd have a pet, but I just couldn't let anyone else take her. I have a neighbor who takes care of her on long shifts."

Taylor nodded understanding, reaching down to slip Cole a small strip of bacon. "This guy's original owner was killed in the attacks, only I didn't know at the time. Three days after, I heard this barking from next door. I called the landlord and we did some checking. When it turned out the owner was listed as one of the missing, presumed dead, and there was no other relative to take him, I just couldn't let him go to a shelter."

Suddenly Mac's eyes widened. "Damn, your dog's been alone all day. Why don't you give me your keys, I could go pick her up. Or I could at least take her for a walk and make sure she's got what she needs for the night."

"Thanks, Mac, I really appreciate that but it's okay," Sheldon reassured with a smile. "I called my friend when I first got here. She's already at his place and probably being spoiled by his three kids."

Mac nodded. He should have figured Sheldon would have alternate arrangements, as he did. Being a CSI made for crazy hours and sometimes made having a pet a challenge, but he knew now he would miss the company of an animal companion.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

After dinner they watched the Discovery channel with Cole curled up on the sofa between them. Every once in a while their hands would meet as they petted the dog, and they'd glance at each other, grinning self-consciously.

Mac's attention focused on the program until a light snuffling noise caught his ear. Turning, he grinned at the sight of Sheldon fast asleep with his head leaning back against the sofa, mouth open slightly. But what really made his heart twist was seeing Cole, lying with his head on Hawkes' thigh, also asleep.

"Trying to stake your claim, boy?" he whispered, lightly stroking the dog's fur. He refrained from saying it was too late.

Mac left the television on until the conclusion of the documentary, but it was no longer the center of his interest.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac checked his guest early the next morning, pleased to find Hawkes sleeping soundly. To his amusement, Cole was lying on the throw rug next to the bed. The dog panted in greeting, but otherwise didn't move.

"Traitor," Mac accused, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

He left a note for Sheldon on the counter, instructing him to relax and take it easy and that he would return at noon to take him home. Grabbing his keys and briefcase, Taylor let himself out and headed for the office.

As he expected, he was the first one in. Mac preferred it that way as it gave him time to check his messages and map out his day. Not that things ever went that smoothly, but the Marine in him always required a plan.

Mac picked up the nearest stack of reports and began sifting through them. He was so engrossed he didn't notice Stella enter the lab a little over an hour later.

A knock on his door broke his concentration and he looked up with a frown. Surely the rest of the staff hadn't arrived yet. Seeing Stella with her hand already on the knob, he gestured her in, knowing full well she intended to enter with or without his permission.

"Good morning, Mac… how'd you sleep last night?" The Greek woman's grin was entirely too chipper for this hour.

Mac was tempted to retort "alone" but wasn't about to add fuel to the fire. Especially since he knew Stella had some kind of agenda. She usually wasn't this early otherwise.

"Same as usual, thanks." He picked up a pen and pretended to study it in detail. "What can I do for you, Stella?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, trying to adopt an innocent look. "I was just wondering how your houseguest was this morning."

"He was sleeping soundly when I left." Taylor winced the moment the words left his mouth, knowing she'd use them as ammunition.

"Ah, that's good." Stella nodded her head. "So, no headache, nausea, dizziness?"

"Slight headache," Mac admitted. "But he ate some scrambled eggs last night and kept them down and he was oriented to place and time when I checked him–"

"Wait a minute!" The woman's eyes widened. "Did I hear you right? Scrambled eggs? So you cooked for him? You did! Look at your face!" She laughed with delight, saying something in Greek.

Mac lowered his head into his hands with a sigh. He'd need a lot more sleep to avoid this woman's verbal traps. Why did he fall for them every time? It didn't matter the subject.

"Stella," he growled, really not in the mood to be teased, especially not about Hawkes.

"It's okay. I know when to concede." She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. But as she walked to the door, she couldn't resist adding, "But you do know that in some countries that could be considered an offer of marriage, don't you?"

"Stella!" This time it was a roar, but it didn't stop her from laughing as she closed the door behind her.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

That weekend proved to be a rare quiet one for Mac. His team had the weekend off and weren't on call either. While he usually looked forward to the time alone, this time was different. The apartment felt suddenly empty and he wasn't accustomed to that.

As Mac went about his cleaning he couldn't stop thinking about how nice it had been to have someone to share his space with again. Someone who could carry on a conversation and would laugh at his jokes, lame as they admittedly were.

It amazed him how easy it was to be around Sheldon Hawkes. Though there was a gap in their ages, it made little difference from what Mac could see. Their conversation had covered many topics and though they hadn't always agreed, they found they could argue with intelligence rather than anger. He didn't know why that surprised him, given the younger man's brains.

And it wasn't just the intelligence. Sheldon Hawkes was a very attractive young man. He kept himself in good shape, as evidenced by his well-toned muscles. The texture of his skin was silk, and Mac closed his eyes in remembrance of how good it had felt under his hands as he'd changed Hawkes' bandages. He groaned, recalling the easy smile and the dark twinkling eyes.

All in all, Sheldon was a walking temptation; one that Mac found himself having an increasingly difficult time resisting. It had been a long time since he'd looked at anyone as a potential lover, and even longer since he had considered a man.

The fact that Sheldon was not just a man but a subordinate co-worker hit Mac like a bucket of cold water. What was he thinking? It wasn't just inappropriate, it was unconscionable.

That didn't make him want the younger man any less.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

A knock on Mac's office door pulled his attention from the budget report. Grateful for the diversion, he looked up to see Hawkes standing in his doorway, looking unusually serious.

"Mac, do you have a minute?" he asked.

"Sure, come on in." Mac frowned when the younger man did so, closing the door behind him. Sheldon didn't normally require privacy in his dealings with Mac, and it set off alarm bells in the other man's mind.

"We've got a witness in the Phillips' case," Hawkes explained, taking a seat in one of the chairs facing Mac's desk. "Flack brought him in an hour ago. Name's Justin Mellick."

"Okay. This is good news, right?" Mac was puzzled.

"Yes. Hopefully Jus– Mr. Mellick will be able to help us narrow down the suspect pool." Sheldon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

Mac studied the CSI for a moment, wondering what he was hiding. This wasn't like Hawkes at all. Taylor mentally reviewed the facts of the case, recalling that a young gay man had been the victim of a carjacking and witness accounts differed as to whether there was prior interaction with the suspects. If so, it could be classed as a bias crime.

Hawkes knew the witness, that much was obvious. And just as obviously, he was reluctant to discuss it. That saddened Mac. He had hoped over the past few weeks that he and Sheldon had built enough of a rapport that the other man would feel he could talk to Mac about anything. Clearly that was not the case.

"Sheldon, is there something you need to tell me? Something about this case?" Mac prompted gently. He sat back, trying to look as relaxed and open as he could.

This time it was Hawkes turn to study him. Mac forced himself not to fidget, and to meet the younger man's gaze without hesitation.

Finally, Hawkes gave a short nod and leaned forward. Breaking eye contact, he cleared his throat and said, "It's my case and I know the interview should be mine, but I can't do it, Mac. It would be a conflict of interest and could jeopardize the case."

The knot in Mac's gut eased just a fraction. Progress.

Nodding, he got to his feet and came around the desk. "New York's a big city, but sooner or later we all run into people we know. If you want, I can question him."

Sheldon nodded, but there was a tiny frown on his face. "Sure, but… you're not going to ask me why it's a conflict?"

His supervisor shook his head. "It's not necessary, Sheldon. Besides, I figured if you wanted me to know, you would have told me." He headed for the door and had his hand on the knob before Hawkes reacted.

"Mac… wait." He stood, visibly pulling himself together. "This could be important."

"Okay," Taylor agreed, turning back to face the other man. Seeing the difficulty Sheldon was having with this, Mac wanted to reach out physically and reassure him. The glass walls of his office prevented that so he settled for words. "Sheldon, whatever it is? I promise it won't leave the walls of this office. You have my word."

Finally Sheldon looked up and met his gaze. "It's not the rest of the team I'm worried about, Mac."

That stung a bit, that the younger man thought Mac might hold it against him. But he could understand the hesitation. 

"It might be easier for me to put your apprehension at rest if I knew exactly what we were talking about, you know," Mac gently prompted. "I think you know me well enough by now to realize that I don't rush to judgment, Sheldon."

"Yeah, I do know. I'm sorry about that, Mac." Blowing out a frustrated breath, Hawkes rubbed his hand over his head. "Okay, here's the thing. Justin and I have known each other for years, and not just casually. He's my ex-boyfriend." Sheldon shook his head. "More accurately, Justin was my lover and partner when the 9/11 attacks occurred. We separated just after Thanksgiving that year."

Damn. Somehow Mac hadn't seen that one coming. He had suspected an intimate relationship, but not that intimate. No wonder Hawkes had chosen to hand off the interview.

"And for the record…. I know you wouldn't judge, Mac. I just–" Sheldon suddenly looked anywhere but at Taylor. "Correct me if I'm off base here, but…" and finally he met Mac's gaze. "…I've been feeling something, more from you than just friendship lately. And… it's mutual."

The younger man's vulnerable expression nearly shattered Mac's control. He should have known Hawkes would pick up on his interest. The man was a CSI, and highly intelligent and intuitive.

"Sheldon, I–"

A sharp rap at the door just barely preceded Danny's entrance. "I'm sorry to interrupt, boss, but the prosecutor in the Thomkins case is screaming for the trace results. I just need your signature real quick." He shoved the folder at Taylor, who grabbed a pen and scribbled on the indicated line.

Not wanting to hear what he was sure would have been Mac's solicitous let-down, Hawkes took the opportunity to escape the office.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac wished he hadn't agreed to do the Mellick interview. After Sheldon's unexpected admission he needed time to absorb the impact. Time he didn't have. And there was also the complication that the man he was about to interview was Hawkes' ex-lover. Mac had to laugh at the irony. He supposed he shouldn't be questioning the man either but he wasn't about to jeopardize Sheldon's privacy by bringing someone else into it.

Knowing the interrogation wouldn't get done by him sitting here thinking about it, Taylor grabbed a notepad and headed for the interview room.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sheldon waited until after he saw Mac enter the interview room before he slipped into the adjoining viewing room. Seeing Justin again after all this time shook him more than he cared to admit.

Prior to the events of 9/11, he and Justin had considered themselves an old happily married couple, planning to spend the rest of their lives together. But the attacks tore that dream apart, sending them in different directions.

Now, just as he had finally considered moving on, perhaps starting a new relationship, Justin was back in his life. What the hell did it mean? If anything. Frustrated, Sheldon leaned his head against the one way mirror.

He still had feelings for Justin, but at the moment they were too complicated for him to begin to sort through. Why did his ex have to surface now?

With effort, Sheldon pulled his concentration back to the two men in the room. Mac's back was facing him, and Justin was sitting across the table, giving Hawkes a perfect view of his face. Catching his ex-lover's sly expression, he frowned and reached over to activate the speaker.

"So… Sheldon had a more important case to work?" Justin stared at Mac through half-lowered lids.

"Something like that." Mac sounded amused.

"Looks like it's my lucky day then, being questioned by you."

"You think so? We'll see." Taylor's voice sounded a bit sharper this time, edgier.

Hawkes shut down the intercom, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against the cool glass panel. He tried to slow his breathing. Control, Sheldon. Focus! But damn, it was hard when he realized that Justin was wearing the sweater he'd given him on his birthday, just one month before they'd split up. He'd picked it because he'd felt it would complement Justin's eyes. He'd been right.

And that voice. The deep, honeyed voice that had caressed his ears even as Justin's hands had caressed his body.

Sheldon found himself overwhelmed by sense memory and fled the room. No way could he listen to more of this.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sheldon chose one of Danny's well-used getaway spots, the roof. Though the wind made it blustery and chilly, it also helped clear Hawkes head, allowing him to focus.

He recognized that Justin was nervous by the way the other man had tried to come off as overly cool, but nervous about what? He was a witness to the attack, not involved as a suspect. Justin had never been violent; he surely had no reason to attack someone, especially not a gay man.

The ex-surgeon remembered his shock at seeing the scars on his lover's body for the first time. Justin had explained that having Native American blood and being gay had made him even more of a target as a youth. Having seen childhood pictures of his lover, Sheldon knew exactly what he meant.

At the time they had met, Justin had been exceptionally attractive. As a teen and young adult, he'd been breathtakingly gorgeous. High cheekbones and narrow, deep set eyes combined with thick black hair told of his heritage.

Sheldon had been doing his residency, living with Tristan in a two-bedroom apartment over a laundromat when he and Justin had first met. They had both been doing laundry and had struck up a conversation. That chat had led to an invitation to dinner, and while it technically hadn't been their first date, both knew it was definitely the start of something.

Like Sheldon, Justin was starting out in his chosen career and had been hired at one of the up and coming architectural firms. They talked of their dreams and aspirations and before either one knew it, the restaurant was getting ready to close for the evening.

Justin had walked him home and claimed a goodnight kiss. The memory of it still sent a shiver down Sheldon's spine. He knew, all these years later, that a big part of that was the magic of Justin being his first – first boyfriend, first lover, first relationship.

He had been so young in school and so driven to succeed, that dating was the last thing on his mind. Women didn't interest him anyway. Not from a sexual standpoint. He freely admitted and appreciated their beauty, but none of them made him long for a sexual union.

Until Justin came along, he hadn't given a thought to pursuing a relationship with a man. But after their second date, Sheldon had known that it was right, that this was what he had been wanting without even realizing. And so he had made the first move, surprising and pleasing Justin. He had never regretted it either.

Not even when he and Justin had made the heart-wrenching decision to separate, two days after Thanksgiving in 2001. Their losses were pulling them apart instead of drawing them together and the relationship that had once been sanctuary was now full of bitterness and discord. That dissonance had carried over into his professional life and Sheldon could never be sure that the patients he had lost had not been the result of his distraction with his personal life. Ultimately, it had driven him from his surgical career and into the M.E.'s office.

Sheldon had been with other men since, and also had tried sex with a woman, with disastrous results that confirmed his sexuality beyond doubt. But he found he had no taste for sex without love. He could pleasure himself better than any stranger and without any of the risks. And that was when he had retreated to his safe little cubbyhole in the morgue, often staying there for days on end, only going home to shower and change clothes.

That had begun changing as he got to know the CSIs better, particularly Mac Taylor and Danny Messer. The younger man was volatile and complicated, but loyal to a fault. Sheldon was fast realizing that Danny's friendship meant a lot to him. He only wished he could have done something for Danny's brother, Louie, other than recommending a neurologist. And the whole thing with Flack…

Don's going to be okay, he reminded himself sharply. Having checked in on the other man just recently, Sheldon knew that was true. Flack still had an extended recuperation ahead of him, but he had a good chance at making a full recovery.

Sheldon closed his eyes, recalling the sharp fear when he'd realized that Mac was also trapped in that building. Flashbacks of 9/11 had tormented him and he saw his own fear reflected on Danny's face as they had searched for their friends. Luckily they had found them, alive. Mac had been relatively unscathed compared to Don's gaping wounds.

Mac Taylor… that man was a world until himself. And one that Sheldon found himself gravitating towards, more and more.

Hawkes groaned, recalling his hastily spoken declaration of earlier. He had never intended to let that slip. Especially not without knowing how it would be received. Their strengthening friendship didn't give him license to come on to his boss.

So where did that leave him?

Eventually he was going to have to come down from this roof and face the consequences. Either Mac would understand, and accept that Sheldon didn't expect reciprocity, or he wouldn't understand, in which case… Sheldon's days in the lab were numbered and he'd end up switching careers yet again.

Sheldon had never been accused of being a coward and he wasn't about to start now. Time to face Mac and Justin and whatever came of this meeting.

Feeling some peace with his realization, Hawkes quickly made his way back to the roof door and jogged down the steps to the CSI offices.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

When he re-entered the observation room, Sheldon saw that Mac and Justin were just wrapping up the interview. Switching on the audio, he heard Mac thank the younger man for coming in and sharing what he knew. Justin nodded, adding that he just hoped his information helped the cops nail the bastard. Both men stood and shook hands and Mac let Justin precede him out of the room.

Sheldon hurried out to the hall, hoping he could pull off looking like he was just casually passing by, at least to Justin. He knew Mac would know he had no reason to be near the interview rooms.

Mac saw him first, and whatever his thoughts were, he kept them to himself. Justin was a totally different matter though.

Sheldon swallowed hard at the light of pleasure in Justin's eyes. Though they had seen each other briefly when Justin had been brought in, Hawkes had quickly excused himself once he recognized his witness as his ex-lover.

"Sheldon! I was hoping to get to see you again before I left." Justin's grin was wide and genuine and he stepped forward, pulling Hawkes into a rib-threatening hug. "How've you been?" He backed away just enough to lean in for a kiss, frowning when Sheldon stiffened and pulled out of the embrace before his lips could connect.

"Shelly?" Then he caught the direction of Hawkes' pointed look. Keeping his voice low, he said, "Ah, not in front of the boss. Got it."

Mac cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, get this information to Flack, see if he can run down some leads for us. Thanks again, Mr. Mellick."

As Taylor walked out of earshot, Justin said, "He knows, doesn't he?"

"Knows?" Sheldon echoed. "About me being gay? Yes. About you and me? Again, yes. And before you say anything else, yes, he's okay with it." At least I think he is. God, I don't really know that for certain, Sheldon realized with a sick lurch in his stomach.

"I've missed you, y'know." Justin reached out and caressed Sheldon's face.

"It's been a long time." Hawkes words and tone were deliberately ambiguous, but Justin knew him too well and picked up on it.

"Does that mean there's someone else?" Justin looked disappointed.

"There's… a strong possibility." It was a lie, a wishful hope, but Justin didn't need to know that. He only needed to know that Sheldon was no longer available to him.

"I should never have let you go," the other man said regretfully. Kissing Sheldon's forehead, he whispered, "Stay well, love."

Hawkes watched the other man walk toward the exit. As the door closed behind Mellick, Sheldon finally felt like he had put that part of his past to rest, freeing him to move forward.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sheldon didn't see Mac for the duration of his shift, nor did he intentionally go looking for the other man. For once, he was free to leave on schedule, and he escaped to the locker room with relief, deciding to grab a quick shower.

He was changing into his street clothes when the locker room door opened. Looking up, his eyes widened as Mac entered the room. Hawkes felt his face flush and he hurriedly pulled on his shirt, feeling oddly vulnerable.

"Hey, Mac… hope you're not here to tell me you need me to work a double?" Sheldon tried to keep his voice light, smiling slightly.

"No. Nothing like that." Mac shook his head. His own expression was calm, but his eyes gave away his unrest.

Hawkes sighed. "Look, Mac… about what I said earlier… I had no right…"

"Did you mean it?" Mac asked gruffly.

That made the younger man blink several times, confused. "Did I–? Yes, I did." He held his ground, throwing the ball back in Taylor's court.

"And Justin?" Mac wondered, his expression guarded.

"I told you, Mac – ex-lover, emphasis on ex." Sheldon took another step closer, watching Mac's eyes widen slightly. Knowing he was going out on a limb, he said, "Have dinner with me."

"I can't," Mac said regretfully. "I have other plans for the evening."

"Okay. I understand." Hawkes nodded, swallowing his bitter disappointment. Grabbing his duffel bag, he headed for the door. He hadn't taken more than two steps before an iron grip on his arm halted him, just as quickly releasing.

"Dr. Hawkes, would you do me the honor of dining with me tonight?" Mac asked, hoping his uncertainty didn't extend to his voice.

Sheldon frowned. What the hell? He studied Mac's face for several long moments, trying to read beneath the set expression and wary eyes. From anyone else he would suspect them of jerking him around. But Mac Taylor wasn't like that.

Deciding to leave the puzzle for now, Sheldon sighed. "You could've just said yes, you know."

"So is that a yes?" Mac wondered.

"I must be crazy, but … yes." Hawkes grinned. Whatever happened, he felt sure his night wouldn't be boring.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

They were early enough to be able to claim one of the back corner booths at Sullivan's. Mac ordered a pitcher of beer while they checked the menu. Once they had placed their order, Sheldon cleared his throat. He couldn't meet Mac's gaze, instead focusing on determinedly rubbing at a spot of ink on his palm.

"Mac, I feel I should– That is, about the interview–" He shook his head, frustrated. "Hell. I'm sorry I had to just drop that on you this afternoon."

"No, you did the right thing," Mac waved off the apology. "Even though you and Justin are no longer involved, your relationship could have been used by a good defense attorney to suggest to a jury that the interview was biased. I'm glad you brought it to my attention."

"I haven't been trying to hide who I am… it's just that–"

"Sheldon, you don't owe me any explanation," Mac assured. "Your private life is exactly that. Private."

The other man nodded. "I appreciate that, Mac. But I've never been happy in the closet. Not that particular one, especially. It just hasn't come up because… I haven't been seeing anyone."

Taylor nodded. "May I ask how long you and Justin were together?"

"Almost six years. We'd started talking about a formal commitment ceremony, even." Hawkes smiled at the bittersweet memory.

"That's nearly as long as Claire and I were together. We would have celebrated our tenth anniversary that Christmas," Mac said quietly.

The freely offered information startled Sheldon. He knew Mac seldom shared personal facts, and especially not regarding his late wife.

"God, Mac… I'm so sorry. After a loss like that, Christmas is hard enough, but for it to be your anniversary too?" Hawkes shook his head, only now comprehending why Mac preferred to work the holiday.

"Don't." At Sheldon's confused expression, the older man continued, "Don't pretend it was any easier for you. You lost your twin and your partner. It's not a competition, Sheldon."

A brief silence fell between them and Mac signaled the waitress. They took a few minutes to give her their dinner order. Once she had left, Mac resumed the conversation.

"What about your parents?" he wondered. "You never mention them. How did they deal with Tristan's death?"

Sheldon laughed bitterly. "They didn't."

"What are you saying? That they didn't come down to the city after the attacks? At all?" Mac felt his composure slip. What parents would abandon their remaining son after the death of his twin and the break-up of a long term serious relationship? It was incomprehensible.

The younger man considered him for several moments before explaining, "Our parents moved to Syracuse the summer after Tristan graduated high school so he and I got a place in the city. I was finishing up my college degree, and I didn't have time for anything else. We shared that little apartment until I was in my second year of residency. That's when I met Justin."

Mac noticed his companion's small smile and realized just how deeply Hawkes had loved Justin Mellick. His heart ached and he wasn't sure if it was in sympathy over the loss, or envy at the depth of such love.

"We fell hard and fast for each other. After two months I told Tristan that I was going to live with Justin. He was cool with it, got his own place. We both had some money by that time, an inheritance left to us by a great-uncle." Sheldon chuckled at the memory. "When we were kids, Mom would never let us alone with Uncle Will. When I grew up I understood why. No one ever came out and said it, but Uncle Will was gay."

"And let me guess, your family didn't approve." Mac's lips tightened.

"Bingo." Sheldon nodded. "And since Tristan didn't appear to have any problem with my choice, they gave him the same cold shoulder. Oh, they held a proper memorial for him. I found out about it from a family friend and attended against their wishes. But they never came into the city. Never once called to see how I was doing."

"I'm sorry," Mac quietly responded. Any other words he might have said were lodged behind the lump in his throat. How could parents do that to their own child?

"Thank God I had Justin in the beginning. He was my anchor for a while. But he had lost friends in the attacks too, besides Tristan. And like me, Justin didn't have any family to lean on." Hawkes shrugged. "It was a lose-lose situation. Too much stress and no way to deal with it except fight or shut down. We both started shutting down. Once that happened…"

"The relationship began to die," Taylor guessed.

"Yeah, maybe we should have tried to ride it out. I don't know." Sheldon looked at Mac for a moment before looking away. "Other couples make it through tragedies all the time and end up stronger for it. Live together all their lives and die old together. That's what we thought we had."

"Under other circumstances, you might have," his companion reasoned. "What happened on 9/11 tore apart a lot of relationships, Sheldon. You've seen it as often as I have, even now."

The younger man nodded, but was saved having to form a response by the arrival of their food. They ate in silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable, both men lost in memories.

Mac knew this would be the perfect opening for him to share his own past experiences with men. He wanted to tell Sheldon that he was no stranger to being with a man. Yet something kept holding him back.

The professional in him knew it would be wrong to get involved with a subordinate, regardless of gender. And yet he knew such relationships formed all the time. As long as he had someone else supervising, and they didn't advertise–

Wait… was he seriously considering–? But even as the thought flitted through his mind, Mac knew the answer was a resounding yes. Sheldon was smart, attractive and easy to be with. He made Mac laugh in a way that the older man had thought impossible since Claire's death.

Sheldon was also a survivor and a man who was courageous enough to do what he had to in spite of anyone's opinion. He had given up what would have been a lucrative career as a surgeon when he realized that although he had the skill to do it, he couldn't sacrifice his soul for it.

"Mac?" Sheldon snapped his fingers in front of his companion's face. "Earth to Mac, you in there?"

Realizing the younger man had called his name more than once, Mac flushed and murmured an apology. He knew he owed Sheldon an explanation. Hawkes' open expression encouraged him, and he tried to marshal his thoughts. Finally, he took the plunge.

"Sheldon, forgive me for being forward, but I think it's safe to say that you and I are–"

The ring of his cell phone sounded shrill and he quickly reached to answer it. Seeing the text message, Mac frowned – Murphy's Law of bad timing, apparently.

"Damn," he growled.

"Duty calls?" Sheldon asked, looking disappointed.

Oddly, that expression cheered Mac, though he fought against showing it. With a sigh, he nodded. "DB in Central Park. I've got to go…"

The younger man nodded. "You go on. I'll square the bill." When it looked like Mac would protest, Hawkes waved him away with a grin. "You can buy next time."

Next time. The words sent a shiver of anticipation down Mac's spine. Feeling bold, he leaned down and whispered, "I'll look forward to it." He deliberately let his breath tickle the younger man's ear, delighting in the catch he heard in Hawkes' breathing.

Even though he was disappointed at being called away, Mac couldn't help smiling in anticipation of being with Sheldon again. He would lay his cards on the table and see what Sheldon's answer was, with the understanding that there was no pressure, no obligation and absolutely no threat professionally if Hawkes' answer was no.

Mac was amazed at just how strongly he hoped the answer was "yes."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The following week proved to be a busy one, leaving no time for personal pursuits. Sheldon barely saw Mac except to receive his assignments and hand in reports. He knew it was a hazard of the job.

But when Thursday arrived and they still had not talked beyond the confines of the job, Hawkes realized he would need to make the next move. On the heels of that realization came the understanding that Mac wanted it that way. Not that he was playing hard to get. No, Mac wouldn't do that. But the older man had to be sure that whatever was happening between them was mutual; that Sheldon didn't feel pressured into it.

The beginnings of a plan took root in the ex-surgeon's mind and he nurtured it throughout the shift. Lady Luck seemed to smile in his favor because they actually wrapped up their shift just an hour later than normal.

Of course Mac was still in his office after everyone had left, but that didn't deter Sheldon. He knew at this hour there would be no one to overhear Mac's side of the conversation. Now, if he could just find Taz's e-mail again. Ah-hah. There. Just as he thought. Two tickets for Saturday evening. Replying that yes, he was definitely interested, he closed his e-mail program.

Grabbing his cell phone, he dialed Mac's office number, waiting impatiently for the other man to pick up.

"Detective Taylor." Ever the professional.

"Mac, it's me." He didn't bother identifying himself further, knowing full well Mac had caller ID on his phone and would recognize the number.

"Sheldon… missing the office already?" Mac's voice sounded amused. "You've only been gone an hour."

Missing you is more like it, but Sheldon restrained himself from blurting it out. He needed to know he had the right, first.

"If I recall, our last get-together got interrupted. I promised you there would be another time. Well, I was wondering if you'd be free on Saturday." Hawkes held his breath, half-afraid of the answer.

"I had some things to do around the apartment, but nothing that won't keep." Mac sounded curious, always a good thing. "What did you have in mind?"

"Have you ever been to the Museum of the City of New York?" Sheldon wondered, mentally crossing his fingers.

"No, can't say that I have," the other man answered. "I didn't even know such a museum existed."

"A friend has two tickets for a benefit dinner concert being held there on Saturday and can't use them. He offered them on to me and I was wondering–" Hawkes sucked in a breath, then rushed on. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in going with me."

The long pause on the other end of the line worried Sheldon and he wondered if this had been a bad idea. He was about to tell Mac to forget it when the other man finally spoke.

"I guess that would depend."

"On what?" Sheldon asked, puzzled.

"Is this a date?"

The younger man swallowed hard. Was it? He honestly didn't know that answer himself. No, that was a lie. He wanted it to be a date. But he wasn't sure if he could tell Mac that yet.

"Would it matter if it was?" he finally questioned, hoping his voice sounded casual.

"Would I ask if it didn't?" came Taylor's parry.

Despite his frustration, Sheldon grinned. He honestly enjoyed the banter with Mac. And unless he was mistaken, so did the other man.

"Okay, so let's just say, hypothetically speaking, that this is a date. What would your answer be then?"

"Hypothetically speaking?" Mac let a minute pass, then answered, "I'd have to say yes."

Sheldon's heart raced. "So… you'll go?"

"I thought we were talking hypothetical," the older man countered, his voice unmistakably rich with amusement. "I haven't been asked yet, that I recall."

"Mac–"

Taylor chuckled, obviously pleased with himself. "Just tell me when and where, Sheldon. It sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon."

They agreed on a time to meet at Mac's apartment and Sheldon hung up a few minutes later, feeling like a cluster of butterflies had taken residence in his gut. It was a sensation he had nearly forgotten.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac hadn't been sure what to expect when Sheldon told him to bring a tux. He'd dressed in a casual suit to explore the museum, glad to see his companion was also similarly attired. The museum building itself was beautiful, and the exhibits were diverse and intriguing.

As they walked through the various rooms, Mac couldn't help reflecting on how their afternoon had started.

Sheldon had met him at his apartment, carrying his own tux in a garment bag. He had a cab waiting down below, and after greeting Cole, he and Mac headed out.

"You mentioned this was a benefit?" Mac phrased it as a question.

"That's right. The proceeds will go to TAFA. Stands for The Arts Fighting AIDS," Hawkes explained. 

Mac's eyes widened. "Sheldon, those tickets are pricey–"

"And already paid for," the younger man assured. "Taz, my college roommate, and his wife Alia were planning to attend. They have three adopted children, two of them have HIV. On Wednesday, Talira, their youngest, came down with strep throat. She's going to be okay, but they're not comfortable leaving her."

Taylor nodded his understanding.

"Taz… his real name is Thomas, knows I enjoy music and so he offered me the tickets." Hawkes shrugged. "I offered to reimburse him, but he wouldn't hear of it. Told me to go find someone and get out for the night and that would be all the payment he needed. So… here we are."

And ironically, they had just been pulling up to the museum entrance.

"You'll have to introduce me to Taz sometime so I can thank him," Mac said.

"No problem." Sheldon had grinned. "I think you'd like him and the family."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The dinner was definitely one of the tastiest Mac could remember, benefit or no. And while he wasn't familiar with all of the artists or their music, he found himself enjoying it. He was aware of Sheldon glancing at him throughout the performance and once or twice he met the man's gaze, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

There was a short break announced, during which time the staff hastily cleared and moved the tables to form a large dance floor. Mac inwardly groaned. He had two left feet when it came to dancing. He had even tried to get out of his own wedding dance, much to Claire's chagrin.

At first he thought Sheldon might spare him the embarrassment as several songs were played while they watched other couples dance, but then the combined group began a slower ballad. The younger man leaned close enough to whisper, "Dance with me. Please, Mac?"

"I– I'm no good at dancing, Sheldon," Mac protested.

The younger man gave him a small smile. "Then let me lead. It'll be fine. Trust me?"

Taylor found he had no defense against that smile and the quiet request. Nodding with a resigned sigh, he allowed Sheldon to take his hand and lead him to the dance floor. He barely had enough time to be thankful he hadn't recognized anyone here before Hawkes had him in a tight embrace, moving them in time with the music.

Though giving the lead to Sheldon felt odd at first, Mac soon relaxed in the other man's arms. He found that dancing wasn't quite as intimidating when your partner knew exactly what he was doing.

When the music had finished, Sheldon pulled Mac into an unembarrassed hug.

"Thanks," he whispered.

Mac choked back a gasp as his body reacted to Hawkes' nearness. This man was dangerous to his self-control.

They returned to their table and watched as other couples continued to dance to the more upbeat song that followed. There were as many same-sex couples as het couples so Mac hadn't felt out of place in Sheldon's arms. In fact, it had been nice to let someone else have control, and he had never thought he would admit that.

The music lasted another hour and then the emcee came out to give them the night's tally. It was impressive and the artists received a standing ovation. The emcee then thanked the audience for their generosity and wished them a good night, adding that the musicians would play for one last dance.

As the strains of "Moon River" began to play, Mac shifted uncomfortably. Sheldon looked over at his companion with a slight frown. Without being sure why, he touched the other man's arm and leaned close to whisper, "Why don't we head on out – easier to get a cab before the rush."

Mac nodded, his expression openly grateful.

They made a detour to pick up the clothes they had worn earlier then headed out into the muggy evening air. New York in late July could be brutal, and the city was in the grips of a heat wave.

Sheldon hailed a cab on his first try, and they both climbed in.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

Both men exchanged glances, realizing they hadn't really talked about it. Finally Mac shrugged, indicating the decision was Sheldon's.

Grinning, Hawkes gave the driver his address then settled back next to Mac. They were sitting close, and Sheldon could feel where their legs touched from hip to knee. He wanted more, wanted to touch Mac, but not here and not without knowing if that touch would be accepted. His instincts told him "yes", but he respected Mac too much to assume.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

After a few blocks of comfortable silence, Mac said, "That last song… Moon River–" Damn it, I thought I could tell him. He took a steadying breath and forced himself to continue. "It was the song Claire danced with her father at our wedding."

Sheldon was sitting so close that Mac heard and felt the hitch in the younger man's breathing. Compassionate dark eyes met his and the understanding in them eased some of the ache in Mac's chest.

"I understand." Sheldon reached out and squeezed his hand briefly.

When he would have let go, Mac tightened his grip, wanting to keep contact. I understand. As simple as that. No trite "I'm sorry". Just a simple and reassuring "I understand", said in a way that made Mac realize the other man really did get it.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, still holding hands. When the cab pulled up in front of Sheldon's building, Hawkes pulled out his wallet.

"I've got this," Mac insisted. 

Sheldon wanted to protest, but decided against it. There would be other times to repay the man, he hoped.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac paid the driver and followed Sheldon into the building. Hawkes headed for the elevator, hitting the call button. When it arrived and they stepped in, Mac couldn't help raising an eyebrow when his companion hit the button for the top floor. Like most city dwellers he knew that the higher the floor, the higher the price.

Hawkes caught the older man's surprised expression and for the first time looked embarrassed.

"Uncle Will was pretty well off. Since he didn't have any kids of his own and Tris and I were the only relatives he would claim, he left everything to us." Clearing his throat, he added, "I was also Tris' beneficiary. After the break-up, I wanted to start over. I found this place for a good price. It needed a lot of fixing up, and that occupied my free time. It gives me privacy, too."

"That's a rare commodity in this city," Mac agreed. Reaching out, he grasped the other man's shoulder. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Sheldon."

Even as he said it, a question that had been nagging at Mac finally made sense. Hawkes' move from the surgical field the Medical Examiner's office had meant a significant reduction in income. When he had chosen to go into field work, that was even more of a cut. Now he understood why the younger man hadn't worried about it. He didn't need to.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The elevator opened to a small lobby, and Sheldon dug out his keys, opening the door and flicking on the lights before standing aside to usher Mac in.

A blur of motion was Mac's only warning before Sheldon's Australian Shepherd enthusiastically rushed him, knocking him off balance. Strong hands steadied him and he looked up into Sheldon's amused dark eyes.

"Sorry about that," Hawkes murmured. "Molly can be– Umpf!"

Mac hadn't planned the kiss, but found himself unable to resist with the younger man standing so close. Realizing he shouldn't have been so bold, he backed away, only to find he had nowhere to go. The door was closed behind him.

And then Hawkes shifted slightly, deepening their contact. Mac groaned, feeling his body respond positively to the kiss. So different from Claire… but so good, his mind categorized. And then reality crashed around him.

Breaking their lip-lock with a gasp, Taylor pushed Sheldon away, shaking his head in denial.

"Mac? What–?" Disappointed and hurt, Sheldon reached out, flinching when Mac kept him at arm's length.

"Sheldon, I– I'm sorry," Mac stammered. "I– I just… I can't do this. I thought I could…" Nearly in a blind panic now, he turned and opened the door, escaping before the younger man could say anything.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sheldon stood frozen for several long minutes, his mind awhirl with confusion. What in the hell had just happened here? Had that really been Mac Taylor who had just stammered and run from his loft?

Molly whined at his feet, and he looked down at her. She was nosing at a burgundy garment bag. Hawkes swore softly. Mac's clothing. He had dropped his grip on the bag when they had kissed.

What had gone so wrong? Had he totally misinterpreted the growing bond between them these past few weeks? Thinking back over the time they had spent together, Sheldon didn't think that wasn't the case. After all, Mac had initiated that kiss.

Kneeling down, he gathered the bag into his arms. Lowering the zipper just slightly, he could smell Mac's unique scent. He closed his eyes, reliving the day up to and including the kiss. It had been incredible – sensuous and all-encompassing. It had left him wanting for more, and he had felt Mac's body respond too. So what had spooked him?

Sheldon pondered that as he hung the bag in his hall closet. He'd return it to Mac tomorrow at the office. They were both supposed to have off, but Sheldon felt certain he would find the man there.

"C'mon, Molly… want to go for a walk?" Grabbing her leash, he hooked it to her collar and let her tug him out the door. He avoided looking at the elevator as he took the stairs to the roof.

Letting her off the leash, Sheldon sat in one of the wooden rocking chairs while she sniffed and explored her territory. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the contradiction that was Mac Taylor.

The other man was certainly not homophobic. If so, he never would have continued getting to know Sheldon on a personal level after learning about Justin. And judging from the way he'd kissed, Mac had experience with guys. So the same-sex angle wasn't an issue.

That kiss… it made Sheldon's knees weak to think about it.

And it helped eliminate another doubt. He had briefly wondered if perhaps Mac wasn't attracted to him. But the evidence didn't support that. Even if he ignored the kiss, which was damned near impossible, there was the fact that Mac had slow danced with him, held hands with him during the cab ride home and had reacted to the kiss.

Running his fingers over his lips, Sheldon couldn't help but wonder if Mac had kissed anyone else, really kissed them, since Claire's death.

Claire.

Sheldon let his mind circle the name. Mac's beloved wife, killed in the 9/11 attacks. Hawkes had never met her; her death preceded his hiring in the M.E.'s office. He had heard of her, of course. Most of the lab staff and CSI's had worked with Mac for years, and it was impossible not to overhear snippets of conversation regarding the couple's strong marriage.

He had loved her dearly; Sheldon had no doubt about that from their conversations. Mac had planned to spend the rest of his life with Claire. That dream had died with her and for a long time Mac had shut himself off from people other than on a professional level.

It had only been recently that Mac had begun to unbend. He dressed more casually, smiled more often, and had even taken off his wedding band. That had caused a lot of speculation in the lab, with folks wondering if the boss was actively dating someone.

Sheldon hadn't seen any signs of Mac being involved with anyone, though he couldn't be sure. Taylor was as private as Hawkes himself and wasn't likely to advertise the fact that he was dating.

Maybe that was it? Sheldon wondered if it could be so simple as Mac feeling like he was betraying Claire by wanting to get involved again? But he had taken off his ring; that indicated some level of readiness, didn't it?

Fear was another possibility, though Hawkes had trouble imagining Mac giving in to that emotion. Then again, fear on a professional level was a hell of a lot different than fear on a personal level. Sheldon had learned that the hard way.

So maybe it was fear. Fear of what, though? Being hurt? Left behind again? Or maybe letting anyone in that close again. Giving anyone that much power over his heart. But it had just been a kiss, not a declaration of love.

Molly barked and Sheldon realized she was standing near the roof door, waiting to go back inside. He got up and stretched, then hooked her leash back up and led her back inside.

His reflections hadn't really gotten him anywhere, except maybe to sympathize with Mac rather than be hurt and confused. And that was probably a step in the right direction anyway.

Sheldon decided that for now there was nothing he could do except sleep on it. In the morning, he would find Mac and they would talk this out like the reasonable and rational adults they both were.

Whatever decision they came to, it needed to be one they both agreed upon.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac pressed the heels of his hands against his burning eyes. He hadn't slept well the previous night. Staying in his apartment felt like a bad idea and so he had risen with the sun, grabbed a quick shower and headed to the lab.

It had become his refuge since Claire's death and he didn't expect that to change any time soon. Normally he could immerse himself in the never-ending paperwork, allowing his brain to focus on something simple. But today that wasn't working. Instead, he kept seeing Sheldon's hurt expression as he'd fled the younger man's loft.

What had he been thinking?

Answer: he hadn't been. He had let emotion override common sense and followed his heart. The day spent with Sheldon had been incredible. Easy companionship with a pleasant sexual tension between them, topped off by dinner and the unforgettable sensation of dancing with another man.

Mac shook his head. He didn't know who that man was yesterday… the one who had accompanied Dr. Sheldon Hawkes to the TAFA benefit, but it certainly hadn't been Mac Taylor. Now he had to figure out how to salvage the mess he had made of his personal life.

And he had to come up with a plan that would let him look Shel– Dr. Hawkes in the eyes again. That was going to be the hard part.

"Damn it," he muttered, tossing his pen on the desk and leaning back in his chair.

The ringing of his cell phone pulled him back to reality and he pulled it out of his pocket to check the display. The text message made him frown. While he hadn't planned to work a case today it seemed the Fates saw differently. Well, he had wanted a diversion, looks like he'd gotten it.

Grabbing his kit, Mac headed for the elevator. He was just about to hit the button when the doors opened and Hawkes stepped out. His expression gave nothing away, but his eyes told an eloquent tale. They were shadowed and sad, without their usual spark, and Mac's gut twisted at the knowledge that he had done that.

"Morning, Mac." He held out the other man's garment bag. "You left this–"

Taylor accepted the bag. "Thanks. You saved me a page. We've got a scene to process."

Hawkes nodded, stepping back onto the elevator. "Let's do it."

The supervisor in Mac applauded the younger man's professionalism but personally it worried him. If Sheldon was building up his walls again, shutting the world out, that would be Mac's responsibility. It would be on his head.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac drove them to the scene. For the first several minutes he wondered if they would make the entire journey in silence. He wanted to break it but words just wouldn't come. Several times he opened his mouth to speak but then reconsidered.

After ten minutes, Sheldon quietly said, "We need to talk, Mac. About what happened last night."

"I know." Mac's voice sounded rusty even to his own ears and he cleared his throat. "But now isn't the time. We've got a job to do first."

Hawkes nodded.

The rest of the drive passed quietly.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Luckily the scene didn't take long to process. Sheldon took pictures of the scene and the victim while Mac bagged and tagged the evidence they discovered. The on-call coroner arrived and gave them the estimated time of death and a preliminary finding of the cause.

"Why don't you head back with the body?" Mac suggested. "I'll take care of things here and meet you back at the lab."

"They have more than enough hands." Hawkes shrugged off the suggestion. "I'd only be in the way. I'll help you clean up here. We'll get done faster."

Mac wanted to argue, but guilt made him hold his tongue. Since he had run out on the other man last night, he didn't want to give the impression now that he was pushing Sheldon away. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he wanted. He needed more time. But even as he thought it, Mac knew time wasn't his solution.

They worked quickly but quietly to pack up their gear. Mac released the uniformed officers since the scene was clear. Turning back to his companion, he gestured for Hawkes to stow his kit first. Sheldon did so and took a few steps away from the truck, giving Mac space.

But he couldn't help staring at the man, trying to gauge his frame of mind. There were lines around Mac's eyes and the corners of his mouth; lines that only showed when he was stressed and trying not to show it. His eyes were shadowed and he avoided direct eye contact if at all possible.

Damn it, Mac! I can't help if I don't know what the problem is, Sheldon fumed internally.

"Something on your mind, Hawkes?" Mac asked, fighting the urge to shift under the intense scrutiny.

How can he sound so unaffected? Sheldon wondered. Then he considered that maybe Mac really was untouched by what had happened last night. He didn't know what to think anymore.

"Nothing important," he finally said. Shaking his head sadly, he turned and took two steps toward the passenger door, facing the street. He noted the car turning the corner coming towards them, but it didn't really register as he heard Mac call his name.

"Sheldon–"

Hawkes stopped, not quite looking back over his shoulder as he said, "Forget it, Mac; business as usual, right?"

The sound of an engine revving and tires squealing caught both men's attention. The car Sheldon had noticed a moment ago was now heading straight for him. There was nowhere for him to go, no time. Damn it, he wasn't ready to die yet!

"Hawkes!"

The sound of the impact was sickening to Mac's ears and he watched as the younger man was flung up over the hood of the car, landing hard and rolling several times.

Having caught part of the plate number, Mac had his phone out and was dialing even as he ran to Sheldon.

"Dispatch, this is Detective Taylor. I've got an officer down at my last location, victim of a hit and run. I need EMT's now!" He focused on recalling the details as he snapped, "I also need an APB on an early 1990's light blue Cutlass Calais or Cierra, partial New Jersey plate King Michael George three six."

Kneeling next to Hawkes, Mac swallowed hard as he got an up-close and personal look at the damage. He had seen far worse, and recently, but he also knew that looks could be deceiving. At least Hawkes was breathing. His eyes were open, but Mac had a feeling he wasn't seeing much, if anything.

"Sheldon? Stay with me, okay? I'm going to check you out." He took out his handkerchief and applied it to the bloody gash on the younger man's head. There was nothing he could do about the raw, scraped flesh of his face.

"What… wrong?" Hawkes rasped, reaching out blindly. "Mac–"

"Shh, don't move." Lightly grasping the outstretched hand, Taylor clasped it in his. "The EMT's will be here soon. Just relax, Sheldon… help's on the way."

"Went… wrong… you… me…" the younger man asked, sounding confused. "Too fast… so sorry…"

Mac closed his eyes as the impact of the words sunk in like a knife. He thinks it's something he did.

"Sheldon, it wasn't you," he whispered.

"Mac?" Hawkes was growing agitated, and the movement was clearly causing him pain. "What–?"

"Where are the goddamned EMT's?" Mac growled, trying to restrain Sheldon without hurting him further. "Easy… easy. Relax, Sheldon. You've been in an accident. You're hurt."

In an effort to escape the restraining hands, Hawkes twisted violently. His eyes went wide and he cried out in pain before suddenly going limp in Mac's hands.

The ex-Marine cursed as he checked for a pulse, relieved to find it, albeit weak and thready. The younger man was breathing in harsh pants, and Mac could see a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

"Damn it." He was thankful for the other man's unconscious state as he quickly checked for broken bones. As suspected, Mac encountered at least one fractured rib. His right wrist was swollen and discolored and his right leg was almost certainly broken.

There wasn't anywhere Mac felt he could touch the injured man without causing more harm, so he settled for gently squeezing the hand he'd held earlier.

"You just hang on, Sheldon," he whispered, leaning close. "Hang on to me as much as you need, okay? I'm going to get you through this, I promise."

The wait for the EMT's was a nightmare for Mac. He kept flashing back to spring, and being trapped in the bombed out building while holding Don Flack's guts together. Only instead of Flack's face, he saw Sheldon instead.

Finally he heard the approaching wail of sirens. Closing his eyes in relief, he whispered, "Thank God."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The medics elbowed Mac out of the way with little finesse. He didn't argue, knowing Hawkes needed their expertise.

As he watched them rush to stabilize and treat their patient, two patrol cars pulled up. He recognized the oldest of the officers and nodded to him as the man approached.

"Mac, what the hell happened here?" Officer Mark Holliwell asked.

"Hit and run," Taylor answered gruffly. "Guy came out of nowhere…" His voice trailed off as he watched the medics quickly load Sheldon't gurney into a waiting ambulance. He took one step in their direction, then stopped short when Holliwell cleared his throat.

Logically he knew he couldn't go with the ambulance. He wasn't a family member. Wasn't anything beyond Hawkes' boss. And a cop, which meant business first. Right now, the business at hand was finding out who had run down one of his CSI's.

Turning back to Holliwell, he gave the other man all the information he had. He also agreed to have someone go over Hawkes' cases to see if any of them might have reason and opportunity to seek revenge.

A black SUV arrived and one of the uniformed officers moved to intercept. Recognizing the occupants, Mac called out, "It's okay, they're with me."

Danny and Stella slipped under the yellow police tape and approached Mac.

"What the hell happened?" Stella demanded. "We heard Hawkes was down. Something about a hit and run?"

"Jesus," Danny breathed, his gaze riveted to the pavement where Sheldon had landed.

Following the stare, Mac's gut clenched at the pool of blood. He hadn't really noticed it before now.

"Whoa, Mac." Stella grabbed his arm, steadying him as he swayed.

Reaction, he knew. That didn't lessen the effect any.

Pulling himself together, Mac straightened away from Stella's grip. Holliwell, if he noticed anything amiss, gave no sign of it. As a veteran cop, he'd been in Mac's shoes a time or two.

"Are we done here?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, for now, at least. And I know where to reach you if I need anything else." As he walked away, Holliwell said, "I hope your man pulls through okay."

Your man. The words echoed strangely in Mac's brain. They could have had such a different meaning, if only he hadn't– Cutting the thought off abruptly, he managed to nod his head in thanks.

"What hospital?" Stella asked.

Taylor sifted through what he had heard from the EMT's. She was about to ask again when he responded, "St. Vincent's."

She nodded. "Gimme your keys." Wiggling her fingers to make the point, she nearly grabbed them out of his hand when he dug them from his pocket.

"Here, Danny," she said, tossing them to the younger man. "I'll drive, you follow in Mac's truck, meet us there."

"You got it." Danny caught them with ease and nodded, sprinting to the other departmental vehicle.

Mac considered protesting, but for once he knew he would be more of a danger behind the wheel, and besides, Stella had a heavier touch on the gas pedal. Right now that was an asset.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac leaned against the wall, alternating between counting the floor tiles and keeping an eye on his team. Well, most of his team. Lindsey had finally earned enough vacation time to take a well-deserved trip home to see her family. She'd be gone almost two weeks. Danny had given her a ride to the airport early yesterday morning, and Stella had volunteered to pick the younger woman up when she returned.

At least, that was how he was hoping things would still go. Mac privately admitted that the last thing he wanted to do was have to inform her, either by phone or when she got back, that they had another member of their team down. Or worse. Damn.

He found himself shifting, searching for a position that gave him an even slightly better view in the direction from which word would come. And why the hell hadn't they heard anything yet anyway? When was someone going to come and tell them something? Anything. They had all done this too often in the past six months and experience had been a harsh teacher of the lesson that it didn't get any easier to wait for news.

Stella sat almost calmly in one of the chairs. Almost, because she kept running her fingers through her hair, and her leg was bouncing with her frustration. Every so often she would meet his gaze and give him a weak but encouraging smile.

Detective Don Flack, still on medical leave himself, had made his way to the hospital to wait for word with them. Though underweight, pale and still moving far slower than usual, he looked a damned sight better than in the first weeks after the explosion that had nearly killed him. He had faced down Mac's displeasure at his appearance by stating that Hawkes had been there for him and he intended to do the same.

But it was Danny who worried Mac most – so much loss in a short time. There was a limit to what anyone could handle. Mac knew as much as Aiden's murder had haunted him, it was only a fraction to what Danny felt. Coming so soon after Stella's assault and the beating of Messer's older brother hadn't helped. And not two weeks after Aiden's funeral had been the bombing that nearly killed Flack.

Now Hawkes was down. From what Mac could see, the two younger men had begun to form a close bond. He might have succumbed to jealousy except that he knew Messer's heart had been captured by someone else.

There had been nervous jokes around the lab for weeks now that someone had it out for Mac's team. In his mind the ex-Marine knew that wasn't so. These were nothing but a series of random incidents. That didn't make it any easier to accept.

The younger man restlessly paced the halls, sometimes taking a break to sit next to Don, where the two talked in low tones. Other times, Messer would disappear for a stretch, re-joining them smelling obviously of cigarette smoke.

Once or twice, Mac had considered joining Danny but two things stopped him. He had no intention of supporting the addiction and no wish to suffer the same fate.

Danny was with them once more, pacing the length of the hallway. Running his fingers through his hair, he blew out a frustrated breath. "What the hell is takin' so long for someone to get out here and tell us somethin'?"

"No news is supposed to be good news," Stella reminded Messer, ignoring his annoyed glare.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Two hours later they were still waiting for word. Stressed beyond endurance, Mac had begun pacing about thirty minutes ago. Or at least for him, it was pacing. Every so often he would step out of the waiting alcove, look down the hall and then walk back and lean against the wall.

Don was sleeping, with Danny's jacket draped over him. Stella had taken Danny with her in search of edible food. Mac hated to admit that their absence was a relief. The strain of keeping his emotions under wrap had him unraveling, or at least that's how it felt.

"Detective Taylor?" a familiar voice called. "I had a feeling you'd still be here waiting."

Taylor whirled, his heart racing as he recognized Dr. Eric Cullen. The man looked exhausted, and there was a guarded look on his face.

"Sheldon– Is he–?" Mac found he couldn't finish the sentence. 

"I always said he was one tough son-of-a-bitch, but this confirms it," Cullen responded. "He's still hanging in there."

"Why is it taking so long to get any news?" The detective knew his tone was overly sharp but he had reached his limit.

"I'm sorry about that, but Sheldon's blood pressure when he arrived was very low. Since pain usually elevates pressure, we usually look for internal injuries and bleeding in that case," Dr. Cullen explained. "Unfortunately we were right. One of the broken ribs nicked his liver. Another punctured his lung. We had to get him to surgery as soon as possible."

"But he's going to be okay, right?" Desperate for reassurance, Taylor's instincts told him there was more bad news coming. He hoped he was wrong.

The other man cleared his throat before answering, "I wish I could be more positive, Detective, but right now his condition is touch and go. Sheldon's other injuries–"

"Other injuries?" Mac closed his eyes. Of course, the broken leg and scalp laceration, among other things. Finally, he whispered, "How bad?"

"He's got a skull fracture, which I expected when I got a good look at the scalp laceration. I had a plastic surgeon scrub in and close it to minimize the scarring." The doctor watched as Mac took in that information. "He's got a grade two concussion, but the good news is that he is responding to stimuli. He'll most likely have one hell of a headache when he wakes up."

"But he will wake up?"

"I wish I could say with certainty," Cullen admitted. "In addition, he has a tib-fib break in his right leg and a broken wrist. Now those injuries aren't life threatening, but they do add to the overall stress on his system. Because of that, we had to make a decision." The doctor hesitated a moment, then continued. "With the serious head trauma, we would normally avoid this at all costs, but the totality of the injuries and the resultant strain on his body of coping with all of that… Well, we've put Sheldon in a medically induced coma. The hope is that if we allow the machines to take over most of his functions, his body will have a better chance at recovery." Cullen paused again, heaving a deep sigh. "And there's something else–"

Something else? Dear God…. Mac felt like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks. How in the hell was Hawkes still alive, even? A couple of his injuries were potentially fatal on their own. And now Cullen was saying there was still more?

"Tell me," he rasped.

"There's blood in his urine," Cullen told him. "There's apparently been some trauma to one or both kidneys. His system won't tolerate another surgery at this point so we're going to monitor his output and vitals."

"And if things change for the worse?" Taylor had to know. Hearing it was better than imagining it.

"Then it's possible we may have to go back in and see what's going on, with the hope that he's strong enough," the doctor admitted.

Mac rubbed his hand over his face, wishing he would wake up and find that he was home in bed and this was just his latest nightmare.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"We'd better get back," Stella said, checking her watch. "There's got to be word soon and I don't want Mac to hear it on his own." She downed the rest of her coffee and tossed it in a nearby trashcan.

"He's not alone," Danny protested. "Flack's there."

"Is that supposed to reassure me? You know as well as I do that right now Don could sleep through–" She cut herself off.

"Yeah." Pushing to his feet, Danny looked around the small cafeteria. "Food's not all that great here anyways."

It didn't take them long to get back to the waiting room, and as they approached, Danny gripped Stella's arm.

"What?" Then she looked to where he was pointing. "Oh God–"

Mac was sitting in a chair a few seats down from Don, who was still sleeping. Taylor was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His expression was vacant, his face pale.

"I hope that look doesn't mean what I think," Messer said.

Stella rushed forward to kneel in front of Mac. Reaching out, she grasped his hands and squeezed lightly.

"Mac, what is it? Did you get news about Hawkes?" Her heart was racing with fear.

At that moment Don woke with a start, looking around for a moment in confusion. "What did I miss?"

Drawing in a shaky breath, Taylor proceeded to fill them in on Hawkes' condition. By the time he was finished, his friends were as pale and worried as he knew he must look.

"Damn," Flack murmured, shaking his head. "Is there a curse on our precinct or what?"

"Sure seems that way," Danny agreed.

For once, even the rational, scientific part of Mac Taylor's brain couldn't raise an argument.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Three days later, Mac stood waiting outside of Sheldon's ICU cubicle, waiting impatiently for Dr. Cullen to finish examining his patient. When the other man did finally exit, his relaxed expression loosened the knot in Mac's gut.

"I'm pleased to say that he's holding his own, Detective. There's actually even a slight improvement in some areas today." Cullen paused, considering his next words cautiously. Finally, he said, "Right now I'm cautiously optimistic for his recovery."

Mac couldn't stop the grin that lit his face. It was the best news he'd had since the accident.

Seeing the other man's reaction, the doctor cautioned, "He's not out of the woods yet, you understand. There are still complications that could arise. And even barring those, he has a long way to go before he's fully recovered."

"I know. But it sure as hell beats 'dead'." Taylor fought down a shudder, recalling how often in the first twenty-four hours he had expected that to be the outcome for Sheldon.

"You can go on in, now. Just don't stay too long." After shaking Mac's hand, the doctor walked away, heading for his next patient.

Feeling a little shaky with relief, Mac pulled aside the curtain and entered the cubicle. As he did each time, he studied the younger man, noting every tube and wire, each bruise and cut. In some ways Hawkes looked worse now than when it had happened. The road rash that covered nearly half his face had scabbed over and the flesh around his eye was puffy and even more discolored today.

Cullen and his colleagues felt it best to keep Sheldon comatose for a while longer and Mac found himself glad of that. At least that might spare him some pain. God knew he would have enough to face when they finally allowed him to wake up.

Pulling up a nearby stool, Mac sat down and grasped Sheldon's hand in his. In his mind's eye he saw Don Flack, fighting this same fight to survive, to hold on one more day. That had hurt to see and at the time Mac couldn't imagine feeling worse.

Now he knew better.

For all that he had tried to protect his heart against this man, Mac now knew beyond a shadow of any doubt that he had failed. Sheldon Hawkes had captured his heart without even trying.

"Sheldon, you're doing great," he whispered. "Just keep hanging on and it will get easier, I promise. You have to hang on. I need to tell you…" Mac cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Sheldon. Sorry that I ran out on you that night."

But more than Mac needed to say it, he needed Sheldon awake to hear it. And to see if there was any chance of building something out of the mess he had made.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Two more days passed before Cullen deemed it safe to bring Sheldon out of the coma. There were no complications from his surgeries, his kidneys seemed to be functioning well and he continued to improve.

The doctor warned Mac in advance that it would take a while for the drugs to pass through Hawkes' system. And even then the younger man would most likely not be aware of his surroundings for at least the next day or two, maybe more. A lot depended on Sheldon himself.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

As predicted, Sheldon spent more time unconscious than conscious over the next few days but gradually his waking periods began to outpace his sleeping. His first awareness was pain, an almost overwhelming amount of it.

His second awareness was of never being alone. Whenever he was coherent enough to pay attention, Sheldon heard the familiar voices of his friends, soothing him, encouraging him, assuring that he was getting stronger, that he would beat this.

More and more often Hawkes became aware of someone holding his hand, wiping a damp cloth over his face, or offering him sips of water. He felt he should know why his throat burned but thinking on that level still eluded him. It was important but not critical, he decided.

There was one voice and touch that registered most often. So often, in fact, that Sheldon wondered if it was something his pain-wracked mind came up with as a distraction. Because after all, Mac Taylor had made it clear that he couldn't be with Sheldon.

But Sheldon wanted Mac to be at his side. For the time being he decided to just simply enjoy it, knowing that at some point reality would step in and Mac would once more retreat.

And yet the older man did not retreat. Instead he continued to spend as much time as possible at the hospital. Sheldon knew Mac had returned to work; had heard him whisper it during one of his more lucid moments. That was as it should be. To Hawkes, it meant that things were slowly returning to normal, whatever that was.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Once again it looked like a member of Mac's team had beaten the odds. One day Mac knew that would change but for now he was grateful.

Sheldon had been sleeping peacefully when Taylor had looked in on him after shift. The doctors were pleased with his progress. The bruises and cuts were healing well, as were his other injuries.

A startled yelp from the floor caught his attention and Mac looked to where Cole, his Aussie, had been romping around with Sheldon's dog, Molly. He knew Hawkes had someone who cared for Molly when he worked long shifts but had decided to bring her to his place while the younger man was laid up. Cole had adapted surprisingly well and the two played as if they had been raised together – sometimes, a bit too enthusiastically.

Cole flapped his ears, and that explained the most recent complaint. Mac grinned as he patted the sofa, inviting the Aussie to join him.

"What's the matter, boy? Is she licking your ears again?" Although Molly was spayed, it seemed she had some maternal instinct that drove her to clean Cole's ears – relentlessly. Most of the time he endured it patiently until his ear got sore and then he told her off.

Unperturbed at the loss of her target, Molly curled up at Mac's feet. Leaning down, he ruffled her fur and she looked up at him in approval.

Leaning back, Taylor closed his eyes. It was all too easy to imagine that this was his life – coming home to two dogs and a lover, no longer alone. It was what he wanted. And worse, he knew it was what Sheldon would have offered. One thing they had in common was an aversion to casual sex.

Why had he fought so hard against it? His reasons had seemed sound at the time. Conflict of interest at work. Their age difference. A host of other things that Mac recognized as excuses. After all, Stella could supervise Sheldon. She had been looking for more responsibility, knowing it would be needed when she went for promotion.

The age difference. That was laughable actually. Sheldon was wise beyond his years. And yet being around him made Mac feel younger than he had since… well, since meeting Claire.

Any other concerns Taylor brushed aside as inconsequential. He had come so close to losing a good friend. Someone who he suspected could be much more. Mac thought he had learned his lesson about living life in the present after 9/11 but apparently he had required a refresher course.

Sheldon had survived and was going to be okay. Fate had kindly handed them a second chance, if they were willing to take it. Mac knew it was entirely possible that Hawkes would tell him to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, but he had a strong suspicion that wouldn't be the other man's answer. At least he hoped not.

There was only one way he was ever going to find out.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sheldon woke, aware of being watched. Before opening his eyes, he made a bet with himself as to the watcher's identity. Cracking open one eye, he wasn't at all surprised to see Mac settled in a chair, pretending to read a book.

"Don't you have someplace else to be?" Hawkes asked, grinning to show he really didn't mind Taylor's presence.

Mac looked up, setting his book aside.

"The dogs were driving me crazy and Stella's banned me from the lab." The older man grinned as he shrugged. "I figured this was better than the alternative."

Sheldon chuckled carefully, wrapping his good arm protectively over still healing ribs and stomach. The chuckle turned to a cough as Mac stood up and approached the bed. Damn, his nearness still made Sheldon wish they could have worked things out. They could be good together. He was sure of it.

"You okay?" Mac asked, frowning. He poured a cup of water and handed it to Hawkes, who sipped it gratefully.

"Fine." Setting the cup aside, Sheldon asked, "So, is Molly still cleaning Cole's ears for him?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?" the other man wondered.

Sheldon gave him a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me! look, then said, "Whose ears do you think she cleaned before Cole?"

Mac couldn't help it, he laughed outright at that image. Looking up, he met sparkling dark eyes and found himself lost once again. Knowing there would be no better time, he took a step closer and reached out to grasp Sheldon's hand, holding it between both of his.

"Sheldon, I– I've had time to do a lot of thinking lately and…" To his horror, his voice cracked, and he paused to clear his throat.

Carefully not meeting his gaze, Hawkes said, "It's okay, Mac. It was just a kiss, doesn't have to mean anything."

Sheldon's controlled tone made Mac's heart soar because that told him in no uncertain terms that his feelings were definitely reciprocated. He still had a chance.

Allowing a small grin to steal over his expression, Mac whispered, "And what if I wanted it to mean something, Sheldon?"

Hawkes couldn't hide his shock and it took him several moments to gather his composure. "Wanted – past tense, Mac."

"I wanted it then… I want it even more now." Knowing it was time for all or nothing, Mac finally allowed his feelings to show. "I'm sorry about running out on you that night, Sheldon. I was… I guess I was scared."

Sheldon nearly scoffed at the idea of Mac Taylor, ex-Marine, being scared. But the man's vulnerable expression stopped him cold.

"Mac, are you saying…?" Sheldon inhaled sharply. "Don't play me, man. Not about this. Please."

"I wouldn't. This is no joke for me," Mac assured. "I haven't made a declaration like this since Claire–"

"Declaration?" Hawkes wondered if one of his drugs was suddenly making him hallucinate.

"I want us to get to know each other better. I want to see where we can take this," Taylor explained. And to be sure that Sheldon understood perfectly, he added, "Romantically. Intimately."

Hawkes closed his eyes briefly, relieved when he opened them to find Mac still there, large as life and anxiously waiting.

"Yes," he breathed. "God, Mac, yes. It's what I want, too."

Taylor leaned down for a kiss. It wasn't intended to be passionate or stirring, more like a promise of what lay ahead.

When they parted, Mac could see the younger man was struggling to stay awake. Small wonder; their conversation had no doubt been stressful for him.

"Get some sleep," he suggested, reaching behind him to pull the chair closer. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Already half-way there, Sheldon smiled at the promise. He didn't release Mac's hand, nor did Taylor try to pull away. He knew without a doubt this was where he belonged.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The following day Mac got to the lab bright and early. He knew there would be a staggering amount of paperwork awaiting his attention. Though he had been in to the office on several occasions he hadn't spent more than a few hours here at any one time since Sheldon's accident.

To his surprise, the backlog wasn't as great as he expected. Stella. God bless the temperamental Greek woman.

Deciding he needed a real cup of coffee to start the shift, Taylor headed down to the cafeteria. Pouring himself a large cup, he added milk and then grabbed a Danish. It wasn't the best of breakfasts but it beat nothing at all, he reasoned.

When he returned to the lab, he saw Danny and Stella walking down the hall towards him.

"Hey, Mac, good to see you," Danny greeted with a wide grin.

"Hello, stranger. How's Sheldon?" Stella smirked at Mac's glare. 

"Slowly getting better. He still has a long way to go, but the doctors are optimistic." Even saying the words eased the knot in Mac's gut.

"That's great, boss." Messer's grin lit his face, chasing away some of the lingering shadows from the past few months.

Mac wondered if Danny suspected anything, but decided it didn't matter. The younger man had never shown any sign of being homophobic, and he and Sheldon weren't going to be advertising.

"So where are we with Hawkes' case?" Taylor wondered as they walked toward his office.

Stella handed over one of the files in her hand. "As you know, the car was found abandoned in Newark three days after the accident. The owner, a James Ross, had reported it stolen the week before."

"Does he have an alibi?" Mac asked.

"Yeah," Danny answered. "He was on a business trip to Idaho, didn't get back until the day after the car was found."

Mac frowned. "Anything else?"

"Some partial prints," Stella told him. "But there's been no hits in the system, and nothing to match them to – yet."

"Trust me, Mac, if the asshole was ever even cited for jaywalking, we'll get him sooner or later," Danny promised.

Taylor fought to hide his grin. It wouldn't be a good idea to encourage Messer at a time like this.

"So what's your next move?" Mac wondered.

"We figured we'd canvas the neighborhood where the car was reported stolen," Stella said. "See if anyone saw anything."

"Good. Keep me posted."

"You bet." The woman nodded as she and Danny headed for the elevator.

As Mac turned toward his office, a different female voice called his name. He turned, greeting Lindsay Monroe.

"Welcome back. How was your vacation?" he asked, leaning against his doorjamb.

"It was good to see the family but I'm glad to be back here." Monroe's smile was a bit sad, and Mac nodded in understanding.

"I'm sure by now you've heard about Hawkes." It wasn't phrased as a question.

Lindsay nodded. "Actually, Danny called to tell me while I was in Montana. With everything that's happened lately…"

"I should have been the one to call," he acknowledged. "I'm sorry, Lindsay."

She shook her head. "No, it's okay. I understood. But how is he doing now? Is he allowed to have visitors yet?"

"He's conscious and getting stronger. The doctors feel he'll make a full recovery, with time." Mac kept hoping that every time he repeated the words he would start to really believe them. So far that hadn't happened. "And yes, visitors are allowed. I'm sure he'd enjoy the company."

"That's good to hear." She smiled. "I'll try to get over to see him this evening."

"It's usually his best time."

An awkward silence descended between them but Monroe made no move to leave, instead standing fast and watching Mac. It made him nervous while at the same time served to irritate, too. After several long moments, he gruffly inquired, "Is there something else on your mind?"

"No, well, not really. I mean…" She shut her mouth abruptly, clearly trying to gather her thoughts.

"Just spit it out, Monroe." Mac steeled himself for what he suspected was coming.

"Fine." Although she was now a bright red, Lindsay's eyes lit up with challenge. "I just wanted to say that I'm cool with you and Sheldon being together. I know the reason you didn't let me in the loop about your relationship is because I'm the newbie, and that it wasn't anything personal. I'm just really glad he's going to be okay."

And with that, she turned and walked away. She'd managed to put a fair distance between them before Mac's brain kicked back into gear. Rather than deny the truth, he simply called out, "Thanks, Lindsay. That means a lot."

Mac wondered, not for the first time, if Stella and Lindsay would be this observant if they weren't trained CSI's. Or was it their natural inquisitiveness that had driven them to this profession? Either way, he would prefer they focus on the job instead of his personal life.

Then he shook his head and grinned, walking into this office and closing the door behind him. For the first time in too long he actually felt like he might have a personal life, even if that meant spending the majority of it in a hospital room. It still beat the alternative.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The shift was uneventful, thankfully. Mac found himself checking his watch periodically, mentally charting where Sheldon would be at this point in his day. The need to see the younger man, to reassure himself that all was well was making Taylor restless and edgy by early afternoon.

He tried taking a walk around the lab, touching base with staff. That wasn't uncommon; he prided himself on being a hands-on supervisor. He asked questions and made observations, but he knew his heart wasn't in it. He kept looking at his watch, wishing the shift was over.

"Mac, just go, for heaven's sake."

Taylor nearly jumped at Stella's presence behind him. He hadn't even realized she was there. Maybe she had a point. If she could sneak up on him in his own lab…

"Go. I've got it covered here. If anything happens I'll call you." She made shooing motions toward the door.

Deciding it would be unwise not to listen, Mac nodded his thanks and headed for the elevator. Five minutes later he was on his way to St. Vincent's. If he was lucky, he'd catch Sheldon before he fell asleep for the afternoon.

And luck was indeed with him. When he entered Hawkes' room, the younger man opened his eyes and smiled upon seeing his visitor.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Mac teased, entering the room and letting the door shut behind him. He frowned as he got a closer look, seeing the lines of pain and stress around Sheldon's eyes.

"Hey," Sheldon whispered, weakly lifting his hand in greeting.

"Hey yourself." Taylor clasped the hand instantly, squeezing it between his own. After a moment, he reached out and brushed the back of his fingers against Hawkes' cheek. "Looks like you've had a rough day. When was the last time you had something for the pain?"

The younger man shook his head. "Wanted… to see… you."

Mac's heart swelled with emotion. He lifted Sheldon's hand to his mouth and lightly kissed the back of it. "You've seen me. Now let me get you something for the pain so you can rest."

The shocked look on Hawkes' face caught Mac's attention even as he pressed the call button.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice. "Sheldon?"

"Thought it was… a dream," the other man rasped. "Drugs…"

And suddenly Taylor understood. Sheldon was afraid last night hadn't been real. The fact that he wanted it so badly curled warmly through Mac's guts. He couldn't help smiling as he leaned down and stole a quick kiss.

"No dream," he promised. "And I intend to prove that to you some day in the not so distant future."

The nurse arrived at that moment and injected some painkiller into the IV. Within a few minutes, Hawkes slipped into slumber, reassured that when he awoke next, Mac would still be there with him.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

When Sheldon woke later that evening, he felt better. Not good… that was going to take a while yet, but it certainly was an improvement.

Looking over toward the window, he saw Mac sound asleep in the guest chair. He looked uncomfortable and stiff, and Sheldon's heart melted. He took the opportunity to study the other man, committing his features to memory until he got the chance to explore with fingers and lips.

The thought made him groan and even though he tried to stifle it, some sound passed his lips. It was enough to wake Mac, who stirred, then stretched as he looked around and took stock of his surroundings. Seeing Hawkes' eyes were open, he grinned and pushed to his feet.

"You look better," he said, walking over to the bed.

"Feel it, too," Hawkes admitted. He frowned in concentration. "Hey, Mac, what's today?"

"Thursday." Seeing that wasn't sufficient information, Mac clarified, "July thirteenth. Why?"

"Damn." Sheldon closed his eyes. "I promised the kids a hands-on science demo tomorrow night. Obviously that's not gonna happen now. And they're going to think I stood them up."

"Kids?" Mac looked puzzled.

"Yeah. I volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club in Harlem," the younger man explained. "We've been planning this for over a month and the kids were looking forward to it. Damn!"

"I'll call and explain," Taylor promised. "And when you're back on your feet and ready to do it, I'll give you a hand. If you want…"

"You don't have to do that, Mac," Sheldon protested. But something in the other man's expression silenced him and he nodded agreement. "Okay, but they can be a handful."

Mac shot him a disbelieving look. "Worse than Danny, Don, and Lindsay on a bad day?"

Sheldon groaned as he tried his best not to laugh. "That was low, Mac. But I guess if you can hold your own with those three, you can handle fifteen pre-teens."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Mac grinned.

A yawn robbed Sheldon of his answer. He frowned in frustration. "I just woke up. How in the hell can I still be tired?" He knew the answer, but he was still having trouble admitting it.

"Because you were badly hurt not so long ago and your body is still trying to heal. Don't fight it," the older man advised. "Right now, rest is the best thing for you."

"Stop playing doctor or I'll sue you for malpractice," Sheldon grumbled. "Besides, what about you?"

"I'm fine," Taylor tried to assure.

"Yeah, right," Hawkes scoffed. "That's why your shoulders are hunched up around your ears? Go home, Mac. I promise to try to get some more sleep as long as you do the same. You keep stressing your body out and it's going to rebel big time."

As much as Mac wanted to argue he knew Hawkes was right. And he couldn't bully the younger man into taking care of himself if he didn't follow the same rules. And yet he didn't want to leave. He knew Sheldon was okay. But he hated the thought of his… boyfriend? The proper term eluded him. Regardless, he hated the thought of Sheldon waking up in pain, on his own.

Perhaps sensing the issue, Sheldon cautiously shifted in the bed, making more room on his good side before patting the mattress. "Join me."

Taylor's eyes widened in surprise. "You can't be serious! Sheldon, you're hurt–"

"That's why you'll sleep on my good side," Hawkes answered. "C'mon… don't you want to sleep with me?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Mac could feel the heat flushing his face. Damn this man and his ability to read him so easily.

"You know I do. That is–" Mac stammered. "Sheldon, really…"

Hawkes decided to go with honesty. "Mac, you're exhausted. You need to sleep. And I know I'll sleep better with you here."

Taylor found the offer too tempting to resist. Even though there was no way anything could happen between them tonight, he would still have the opportunity to sleep with his lover-to-be. He fought back a groan of desire.

"What about your doctor?" he tried one last tactic. "I'm sure this isn't on his recommended treatment plan for you."

"That reminds me… hand me the phone," Sheldon requested. When Mac did so, the younger man punched in a series of numbers. "This is Sheldon Hawkes. Could you please let Dr. Cullen know that I'm requesting no more visitors for the evening? Yes. Thanks. I'm just a little tired, that's all."

And suddenly Mac wanted nothing more than to join him. Toeing off his shoes, he took the phone and put it back on the nightstand. Then he carefully climbed in bed, curling on his side facing Sheldon.

They shared a lingering kiss and drifted off to sleep. If either man dreamed that night, they didn't recall it when they woke.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Sandy? I got your page. What's up?" Dr. Eric Cullen frowned as he approached the nurses' station. When he had last checked his patient, Sheldon Hawkes had been resting comfortably.

Nurse Sandy Harrison was a twelve-year veteran at St. Vincent's. She had found her patients with after-hours visitors on many occasions. But seldom had she seen this particular trick used.

"Mr. Hawkes has a… guest in his bed."

Cullen blinked several times, unsure that he'd heard her correctly. It was late and he was well into his second consecutive shift, covering for an ill colleague. "I– I'm sorry, what did you say?" 

"You heard me right the first time. Go see for yourself." She pointed at Hawkes' room. "Mr. Hawkes insisted I page you after I caught them."

"Them?" Cullen shook his head, deciding it would be easier to just check it out. He headed to Sheldon's room and after a moment's brief hesitation, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Hawkes was awake and indeed had a bedmate. To his relief, the other man was fast asleep. From Sandy's disapproval he'd half expected to find– Never mind. Cullen mentally shook his head to clear the image.

Eric recognized the other man as Mac Taylor. But wasn't he Sheldon's supervisor? None of your business, Eric. However, his patient's health and well-being was his responsibility. And right now Sheldon needed sleep just as much as his friend, if not more.

"I don't remember giving permission for extended visits, let alone overnight guests," he said, arching an eyebrow at his younger colleague.

Although Mac hadn't stirred, Sheldon held a finger up to his lips to silence Cullen. "C'mon, Eric, cut me a break. He's exhausted. He's not causing any trouble."

"Not causing any–?" Cullen had to take a slow breath to calm himself. "You are aware of your injuries, right? In addition to some rather serious fractures you also underwent surgery to put your insides back together. You're not up to any kind of sexual acti–"

Sheldon's eyes blazed with a sudden anger but he still managed to keep his voice low as he growled, "You're presuming, Dr. Cullen. What you see is exactly what it looks like. He's sleeping. And he has been for the past four hours now. The fact that he's still asleep now should give you a clue that he's totally exhausted. He hasn't stirred the whole time he's been here. I'm fine. He's no bother; he's staying."

The professional side of Eric still wanted to argue but the humanitarian in him shut down the impulse. After all, Taylor was carefully curled up against Sheldon's good side, on top of the blankets. Even in sleep one could see the lines of stress and exhaustion on his face. And as Sheldon had pointed out, the man hadn't stirred during their entire conversation.

"Okay, you win – for now. But I want him gone before rounds, and your word that this doesn't get repeated. If he wants to stay, I'll arrange to have a cot brought in. Clear?" His tone left no room for argument.

Hawkes nodded, relieved. "I, uh, just have one favor to ask."

"What's that?" Eric asked, suspicious.

"Can you get a blanket and cover him, please? He's getting cold."

Cullen nodded. "I'll be right back."

True to his word, the physician returned minutes later with two blankets, which he carefully draped over both Mac and Sheldon.

"Get some sleep," Cullen quietly instructed his patient before he headed out to catch some rest himself.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sheldon's recuperation progressed steadily and though Mac continued to spend a considerable amount of time at the hospital he was back to working full-time. He wanted to save some time for when Sheldon was finally released. That day couldn't come soon enough for both men.

At first Sheldon had spent much of his time sleeping, with Mac content to sit and watch or perhaps even doze off. But as the days passed and Sheldon's strength increased, more and more of their time together was spent in quiet conversation.

During one such talk, Sheldon asked out of the blue, "Mac, have you ever been with a guy before? Intimately, I mean?"

Taylor had been expecting the question for some time now. He had been hoping to be able to answer in a more private setting but it was important for Sheldon to know.

Nodding, he said, "Several times. And not just casually either." Meeting the younger man's gaze, Mac clarified, "I'm bi. I loved Claire and marrying her was what we both wanted but I enjoy men just as much. It's been a while, though."

Hawkes nodded, torn between relief and jealousy. Relief because there was a better chance that Mac would be certain this is what he wanted; jealousy because a part of him had wanted to be Mac's first.

Something of his thoughts must have shown in his expression because Mac grasped his hand and held tight.

"I haven't been with anyone since Claire, and we were married for ten years, so–"

A nurse chose that moment to interrupt and shoo Mac out for the evening, leaving Sheldon to ponder what he'd learned. And it was a lot to process.

First, Mac didn't do casual. Long-term was his own personal preference as well. If this relationship worked, he was looking at a future that included Mac Taylor as his lover and partner. That sent a shiver of anticipation through Sheldon.

Secondly, Taylor was no stranger to male/male sex. And yet he hadn't been with a man for a long time, hadn't been with anyone, for that matter. Sheldon groaned as his brain fed him images of how it could be between them. It was a reminder of how serious his injuries had been when his body failed to respond. He hoped… No, he knew that would change as he continued to get stronger.

Finally, Mac was monogamous. He hadn't come out and said it, but just the fact that he had married Claire spoke volumes as to the man's level of commitment in a relationship.

Sheldon knew that getting involved with the boss wasn't the smartest thing to do but he decided the risks were worth taking. Mac was worth it.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Three weeks after the accident, Dr. Cullen released his patient to a rehab center. Clove Lakes in Staten Island had a spot open and so Sheldon had been moved there for another three weeks.

Though the rehab center wasn't that much further than the hospital had been, their visitation rules were stricter and better enforced. Even though they encouraged family participation in the overall rehabilitation of their clients, visits were only allowed during set times. Given the nature of Mac's job, he missed a frustrating amount of those times, usually only getting to see Sheldon one night during the week and for a few hours on Saturday or Sunday.

Both men found it difficult to endure the separation, both in terms of support and for purposes of trying to plan for life after Sheldon's release.

Fortunately, telephone contact was allowed and even if Mac couldn't get to the rehab center, he talked with Sheldon daily. He quickly learned to read the younger man's voice, letting it tell him if it had been a good day, or if Sheldon was hurting or depressed. And he made it his priority to visit the next day in the latter cases. Sometimes he even brought Molly along, having received enthusiastic approval from the team handling Sheldon's care.

The Aussie had been living with Mac and his dog, Cole, since the accident. Most of the time she was content to play with Cole or curl up next to Mac on the sofa but every so often she would go to the door and whine. After the first two days, Taylor realized she was looking for her owner.

He hadn't told Sheldon he was bringing her and the surprise and happiness in the younger man's expression was worth it. Molly's reaction had them both laughing as she wiggled her entire backend to compensate for her lack of a tail.

By the end of Sheldon's second week, his good days were outnumbering his bad. Though his doctors were pleased with his progress they felt he needed one more week before they could release him.

Sheldon had apparently borne the news with his usual good grace but Mac saw through the façade and once they were alone again, he had knelt beside the younger man's wheelchair.

"Sheldon–"

Hawkes shook his head wearily. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, Mac. I need to get my life back."

Mac grasped Sheldon's good hand, holding it tight. "You'll get it back. I promise. I know this has been hell for you but you've done the hardest part, Sheldon. You're almost there."

"I couldn't have done it on my own, y'know." Sheldon squeezed Mac's hand, then tugged it gently upward.

They shared a gentle kiss and as Mac eased back, he said, "Yeah, you could have. You're one of the strongest men I know. But you're not on your own. Not anymore."

The words, and the sincerity behind them, gave Sheldon the boost he needed to get through the last grueling week. On Friday, at the end of his afternoon physical therapy session, Sheldon met with his doctors one last time and all agreed. He had progressed to the point where he could go home.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Molly yipped with excitement as Mac turned into the parking lot. He couldn't be sure if she actually recognized her surroundings or if possibly she was picking up on his excitement. Cole whined, soon escalating it to a full bark.

Sheldon was finally coming home today.

"Easy, kids," he soothed, finding a shaded parking space and pulling in. By the time he got out and opened the back door, both dogs were barking frantically. Mac couldn't help chuckling at their antics as they raced each other to get out of the car.

"Yes, I know you're both excited. But if you don't calm down they're not going to let you inside." He patted both of them and handed over a treat for each. After a quick stop in the pet walking area, they headed inside. To his relief both animals settled down immediately.

After signing in Mac made his way to Sheldon's room. He hadn't told the younger man he was bringing the dogs. In truth, it had been a last-minute decision fueled by Molly's insistence that she not be left behind.

He knocked on Hawkes' door and waited for permission to enter. Pushing the door open, he released the leashes and just above the click of paws on linoleum he heard Sheldon's delighted laugh. That alone made it all worthwhile.

Once the dogs had their greetings, Mac stepped forward and leaned down to claim a kiss. Sheldon returned it with enthusiasm.

"Ready to go?" the older man asked.

"Just about. Waiting on the doc to give me my final discharge instructions and prescriptions." He lifted his still casted arm. "If it weren't for this I could be walking out of here, y'know."

Mac knew that wasn't so, but it wasn't worth pointing out. Sheldon needed no reminder of his injuries.

"I'm just glad you're finally coming home. And so are they." Mac nodded at the dogs, both still vying for attention from Sheldon's one good hand.

"Home." Sheldon repeated the word, closing his eyes to savor the sound. A moment later he opened them wide. "Wait a minute. Whose home?"

"We talked about this, remember?" Taylor prodded patiently. "We'll be going to your place, since it's all on one level and easily accessible."

"I'm sorry, Mac," the other man said, rubbing his hand distractedly over the scar on his head. "Sometimes I still have trouble with my memory."

"I know." Mac knelt next to the wheelchair, reaching out and grasping Sheldon's good hand in his and squeezing it lightly. "That should get better as you heal, too. Give it time. Do you have a headache now?"

"No. I'm just frustrated. How in the hell am I going to do my job when–" Knowing he couldn't get this agitated and avoid a headache, Hawkes clamped his mouth shut, but his eyes still shone with emotion.

"Let's take that one day at a time, shall we?" Dr. Ken Speers said from the open doorway. "While it's possible that the memory impairment may affect your day to day interaction, I've seen patients return to demanding jobs and do just fine. Concentrate on getting back on your feet, okay, Sheldon?" Speers gave an encouraging smile.

Turning to Mac, he held out his hand. "Good to see you again."

Mac stood and returned the handclasp. Of all Sheldon's doctors, he liked Speers the best. His white blond hair and pale blue eyes immediately caught one's notice before the physical presence of the man registered. Though not overly tall, Speers was broad and well-built. He carried himself with a confidence that Mac would bet came from being in the military.

"Ready to take our friend home?"

Mac glanced down at Sheldon, his gaze full of a promise that the younger man seemed to need because he sat up straighter. "More than you could ever know, Doc."

"I see you brought the rest of the family today." The doctor grinned as he knelt down and greeted the dogs.

"Cole refused to be left behind this time," Taylor said, reaching down to scratch the dog's ear. "Since the center is pet-friendly…"

"Good decision, Mac," Sheldon said, grinning as Molly nudged his good hand for more attention.

"Well, before I get a nurse in here with your discharge papers, are there any questions?" Speers looked between the two men. When both shook their heads, the physician looked at Hawkes. "Okay, I know you're a physician and we both know that we make the worst patients. Keep in mind that you're still healing, okay? That means no strenuous activity just yet." He shot a meaningful look at the two men.

Mac couldn't help finding it interesting that Speers had already pegged them as a couple when they hadn't really shared more than a couple of dates and kisses. Then again, he'd spent as much time here as possible. And there was an easy familiarity between Sheldon and himself that they had always shared.

Speers caught the look and hastened to reassure, "If I put two and two together and got five, I apologize. It's just that… well, my partner is a cop and I thought I recognized the body language."

After exchanging a brief look with Mac, Sheldon said, "You're not wrong, Doc. It's just that we're still new to each other and… we work together."

Speers nodded as he got to his feet. "I understand. You know anything we've discussed is covered by patient confidentiality. But I meant what I said about giving it more time. You've come a long way in six weeks but you're not ready for anything ambitious."

"How long?" Mac asked, ignoring Sheldon's startled glance.

"Two weeks, at least." The pager in Speers' pocket chirped and he pulled it out. "Sorry, guys… I have to go. Take care and give me a call if you need me." After shaking hands with both men in turn, the doctor turned and hurried from the room.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac watched the door close behind Speers then turned back to Sheldon. The younger man was lavishing attention on Molly and Cole, carefully avoiding eye contact with Mac. His downcast expression concerned Mac.

Had he gone too far in asking the question? Maybe he had presumed too much, or had Hawkes perhaps changed his mind?

God… please no.

Kneeling down next to the wheelchair, he said, "Sheldon, I'm sorry if–"

At the same time, Hawkes muttered, "Sorry, Mac. I'll understand if–"

Mac blinked, trying to process what he'd heard. "Wait a minute. What are you apologizing for? This isn't your doing, Sheldon."

"I know… but another two weeks?" Hawkes' complexion darkened and once again he dropped his gaze.

"That's what's bothering you?" Mac fought to hide his mirth, knowing his companion wouldn't appreciate it. Cupping Sheldon's chin, he gently forced the other man to look at him. "I don't care if it's two days, two weeks, two months or even longer. Do you hear me? I'm not a horny teenager, Sheldon. I happen to believe it'll be worth the wait." Leaning forward, he brushed the full lips with a brief, chaste kiss.

Reaching up with his good hand, Sheldon trapped Mac in place and claimed his own, deeper kiss. When they parted, both men were breathing hard.

"Maybe you can wait," Sheldon whispered, "but it's killing me, Mac."

Mac was saved from having to form an answer by the entrance of the nurse with Sheldon's discharge papers. Nevertheless he shot the younger man a look that promised payback.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac had taken time off from the lab above Sheldon's protests, placing Stella in charge and arranging with the other supervisors for rotating coverage. In truth, Mac found himself enjoying the time off. He hadn't had a vacation in longer than he could remember and even though the majority of his day was spent in Sheldon's loft, he didn't mind.

They quickly fell into a routine of breakfast, exercises, and then a rest for Sheldon while Mac took care of light chores. Three afternoons a week, Sheldon returned to Cloves Lake for physical therapy. The sessions left him so drained at first that he went to sleep directly after dinner.

Mac had kept in touch with the lab, inquiring on progress with Sheldon's case. He knew the longer the case went unsolved, the likelihood increased that it would go stay that way. It frustrated him that this one case that was so important to him might never have a resolution.

After a fruitless call to Stella late the first week, Mac hung up the phone with a sigh.

"Nothing new, I take it?" Sheldon asked, his voice calm. He was resting on the sofa, with Molly and Cole curled up on the floor nearby.

"You're right. Nothing," Taylor growled in frustration. He found it amazing that Sheldon could remain so calm.

He found himself sorely tempted to go back to work and take on the case himself but he knew that would be the wrong approach. For one thing, he admittedly was too close to be objective and for another, Mac knew his staff was doing their best to break the case.

"Come on, Mac. You and I both know that there are some cases that remain unsolvable. Yes, even in your lab." The younger man smirked at Taylor's glare, then shrugged. "Why should this case be any different?"

"It is different," Mac insisted, sitting on the edge of the sofa and grasping Sheldon's good hand.

"Because it's me." Hawkes shook his head. "Mac–"

The other man silenced him with a kiss. When they broke apart, Taylor whispered, "I know it's not rational, Sheldon, but it's true."

I know." The dark eyes held understanding and compassion. "I get it, Mac. I do. But there's a difference this time. I'm still alive. And I plan on staying that way for a long time, okay?"

"You'd better," the older man mock-growled, smiling slightly before claiming another kiss.

Sheldon leaned into the embrace, but instinct told him Mac still wasn't quite as settled about what had happened as he apparently wanted his partner to believe.

"So," he questioned, reaching up to tap one finger gently at Mac's temple, "you want to tell me what else is going on in there? Or am I going to have to figure it out on my own?"

Mac normally didn't share his thoughts easily, not even with Stella. But he felt comfortable enough with Sheldon and that gave him the courage.

"I lost love once, Sheldon. And then I nearly lost my second chance by waiting too long." Taylor swallowed hard, but looked directly at the younger man. "It… bothers that I came so close to losing that chance too. That once again someone could take it away from me. It took nearly losing you to realize I needed to take the risk. I'm the one who harps about following the evidence, so what does this make me?"

"Human," Sheldon whispered, resting his hand on Mac's chest, reveling in the feel of the thundering heartbeat. "And, just maybe, a man in love?"

For the first time since Claire, Mac realized that he had found someone with whom he could be vulnerable, someone who wouldn't exploit that vulnerability.

Claiming another kiss, he whispered, "No maybes, Sheldon. Definitely a man in love."

"Thank God. It would be damned awkward if it was only one of us." Eyes twinkling with humor, Sheldon pulled Mac off-balance, and the man landed next to him on the double-wide sofa with an oompf of surprise.

But instead of trying to fight the embrace, Taylor surprisingly curled closer.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Early in the second week, Detective Don Flack called. He sounded excited and wanted to come by that afternoon for a visit. Since Sheldon didn't have physical therapy that afternoon, Mac agreed.

The detective arrived promptly at 1:30 and Sheldon buzzed him in.

Flack looked around admiringly as he entered the loft. "Nice place, Doc."

"Thanks." Wheeling back from the door, Hawkes closed it behind their guest. "You're looking pretty good, Don. They got you back to work yet?"

"Yeah, desk duty only, though." Flack smirked, nodding at the chair. "Looks like you got a ways to go yet, huh?"

Sheldon nodded, disgusted. "Tell me about it."

"So where's Mac?" Don wondered, looking for the older man.

"Oh, he shutting the dogs away in the bedroom. They're pretty hyper today and he didn't think it would be wise to have them running around," Hawkes explained. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Nah, I'm good." Don waved aside the offer. Too restless to sit, he paced a small area of the living room.

Sheldon clamped down on his impatience. Mac had said Don sounded eager on the phone. He wasn't kidding. The man was nearly vibrating with nervous energy.

"I'm sorry, Don. I'm a lousy host. Have a seat," Hawkes offered, gesturing to the sofa.

Just as the other man was about to get comfortable, Mac walked out from the bedroom. He smiled broadly at seeing the detective.

"Don, it's good to see you." They shook hands heartily. "Are you back on the job yet?"

"Yeah. Like I told the doc, it's just desk duty." Flack grinned. "Still beats sitting at home and staring at the same four walls."

"Amen," Sheldon agreed.

"Hang in there, Hawkes," Don said, genuine sympathy coloring his response. "You're gettin' there."

"So, what brings you here, Don?" Mac asked, taking the seat closest to Sheldon's chair. "You sounded pretty excited on the phone earlier."

"Would you believe it's good news for a change?" the younger man grinned widely. "We got a break in your hit and run case finally."

"You found the driver?" Mac asked, tensing.

Don shook his head. "Wasn't us. He was turned in by his ex-lover. You know him, Doc," he said to Hawkes as he pulled out a notebook and flipped through the pages. "Yeah. Justin Mellick. Guy called us late last week, said he had information on one of our cases."

"Justin?" Sheldon paled. "H-he wasn't involved, was he?"

"No, Doc, nothing like that," Don assured. "Apparently the driver was one of Mellick's ex-lovers. Mellick told us he received a bouquet of lilies right after your accident. There was a sympathy card but no signature. Mellick couldn't track it down. Figured they were delivered by mistake and tossed them."

"Then how–?" Hawkes wondered.

Flack held up his hand. "I'm getting' to that. Apparently the ex has been borderline stalking Mr. Mellick for months now. Neighbors reported seeing a red-head sitting in a car for hours on end. E-mails, phone calls, etc. Well, the other day he stopped by, caught Mellick just as he was getting home. Expressed his deep sympathy over the hit and run accident suffered by Mellick's prior lover, Sheldon Hawkes."

"Wait a minute, we never released the fact that it was a hit and run," Mac realized. "Just that it was a traffic accident."

"Bingo." Flack grinned widely. "Apparently he'd been trying to win Justin back, wooing him and being sympathetic and supportive, but his e-mails kept dropping hints that made Mellick suspicious."

"Wait a minute, did you say red-head? His name wouldn't happen to be Paul Sheridan?" Hawkes quietly asked, ignoring Mac's sharp look.

"Yeah, matter of fact." Don frowned. "You know the guy, Doc?"

"Not that well," the ex-M.E. shrugged. "We met a few times over the years at Justin's office parties. Paul's also an architect." Knowing that answer wouldn't satisfy either man, Sheldon continued, "He had a crush on Justin from the moment they met. Used to try to get Justin to go out with him, even though he knew we were a couple. He was right there when Justin and I broke up, too. I know they dated for a while but I haven't seen him for years."

Flack made some notes, then continued, "Well, I guess Justin told a mutual friend about running into you at the precinct a while back. From the way the friend talked, Sheridan got the impression that Justin was thinking about getting back together with you. That apparently set Sheridan off and sent him gunning for you. Guess he saw you as competition."

"And how do you see me?" Sheldon wondered.

"Huh?" Don blinked, unsure what the other man wanted to know. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, does it bother you? Finding out I'm gay, that is." Hawkes found to his surprise that he couldn't meet the detective's gaze.

Mac reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. When Sheldon looked up at him, he saw nothing but understanding in the hazel eyes.

"Hey, what two consenting adults do in the privacy of their home ain't none of my business. Just 'cause I don't swing that way doesn't mean I'm a homophobe," Flack said. This time his look included Mac, too. "There's just one thing that bothers me."

"And what's that?" Mac asked. He wasn't too concerned, recognizing the amused glint in the detective's eyes.

"How in the hell did I miss the fact that you two are…" He gestured helplessly with his hand. "…together? Some detective that makes me, huh?"

Sheldon burst out laughing, relieved. He considered Don Flack a good friend and would have hated to lose that.

Mac chuckled, then said, "I think you can be excused this once, Don. I didn’t even have it figured out until Sheldon's accident. Besides, you've had your own issues to concentrate on." As Don nodded in acknowledgement of that, Taylor continued, "As much as the NYPD claims to be enlightened, I don't think they've put 'Using Your Gaydar Effectively' on the academy training course list just yet."

"Maybe not yet, but they damned well should." Turning to Sheldon, Flack said, "I'd be lying if I said it didn't surprise me, Doc. But only because I just assumed…" He shrugged helplessly.

"That I was straight. I know. And to be honest, I did nothing to discourage that assumption either," Hawkes admitted.

"Given our jobs, I can see why. I hope you guys know you can trust me with this." To Flack's relief, both men nodded. "And if anyone hassles you, on the job or otherwise, I wanna know about it. I take care of my friends."

Mac arched an eyebrow at him, and Don laughed, getting the unspoken jibe. "Yeah, I know. Tough Marine like you don't need no help, right? I'm just sayin' if you ever do."

"Thanks, Don. I– We both appreciate that," Taylor assured.

"No problem." Flack shook his head in astonishment as something occurred to him. "I really should have known. Now it all makes sense!"

"What do you mean?" Sheldon wondered, confused.

"Stella." Ignoring Mac's groan, Don continued. "She's been walking around the lab, muttering about matchmaking and stubborn men lately. I thought she was talking about Danny and Lindsay. Was gonna tell her to get a clue. Guess I'm the one who should."

The beeping of Flack's pager startled them all.

"You're on the clock?" Mac asked, surprised.

"Yeah." Pulling the unit from his belt, Don checked the display then looked up at his friends. "I wanted to be the one to break the news to you guys. In person."

"That means a lot. Thanks, Don." Sheldon held out his hand to the detective.

Flack stood, walked over and accepted the handclasp, returning it firmly. "You're welcome. Get back to work soon. We miss you, Sheldon."

Mac also stood. "Thanks, Don. We appreciate you coming here and telling us."

"My pleasure."

Sheldon watched as the two men shared an easy hug. He briefly wondered if that should bother him but knew the answer instantaneously. No. Mac and Don had survived a horrific trauma together and it bonded them in a way few others could understand. It had nothing to do with Mac's relationship to him.

As if reading his mind, Taylor came over to Sheldon's side, resting his hand on his shoulder as he looked at Flack and said, "Why don't you give us a call in a couple days? Come over for dinner."

The younger man nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that." Giving a little wave, he walked out the door.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Once the door had closed behind the detective, Mac locked up and turned back to his companion, intending to ask him how he was feeling. The expression on the younger man's face told him more than words ever could have.

Hawkes looked pensive, and Mac knew he had to be thinking on what Flack had told them about Paul Sheridan. It had to be tough, hearing that Mellick was indirectly linked to the accident, or rather the incident that had so nearly killed him.

"You okay?" he quietly asked as he approached.

"Hmm?" Sheldon blinked several times as he tried to pull his focus back to the present. "Yeah, I'm good, Mac."

"C'mere," the older man gestured, reaching out and helping Sheldon to stand and half-carrying him the few steps to the couch. Once they were seated, Mac shifted into the corner and held his arms out, letting Sheldon do as much as he could to adjust his own position until they were seated back to chest, with Mac's arms wrapped around his lover's waist.

Lover. The word wasn't technically accurate. Yet. But it summed up Mac's feelings perfectly and he knew Sheldon returned them.

"We see it every day," Taylor whispered roughly. "Jealousy driving someone to kill. I never thought I'd find myself in that position. I could have lost you… almost did, because of a man who didn't even have cause for jealousy."

"Love isn't rational," Sheldon responded, tightening his good arm over Mac's. "I kind of feel sorry for the guy. He's going to jail for something that was based on a misperception. If he had just waited it out, he would have discovered there was no reason for his jealousy."

"And that discovery wouldn't have nearly cost you your life." A shudder rippled through Mac.

"Hey, I'm okay, Mac." Concerned, Sheldon carefully turned onto his good side, needing to get a look at his partner. They shared a gentle kiss, savoring the light contact.

"You know, I was a little jealous myself when I saw you and Justin at the precinct. He seemed pretty keen to re-connect," Taylor mused, rubbing his hand along Sheldon's arm.

"He was, but I think we both knew it couldn't happen. We weren't the same people we'd been when we met. We'd grown in different directions." Hawkes shrugged. "Sometimes you really can't go back."

"Does that bother you?" Mac wondered, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"No." Sheldon's answer was quick and firm. "I'm where I'm supposed to be, Mac. In your arms. Everything happens for a reason, even if we don't know why. I'm proud to be with you."

The older man swallowed hard as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. He had found and lost love once and now had found it again, in a different form.

They shared another kiss, this one deeper, until Sheldon broke it off to yawn.

Mac chuckled, shifting slightly to accommodate the younger man. "Good thing my ego's tougher than that."

"Sorry," Hawkes apologized, looking sheepish.

"Don't be. Get some rest." Mac pulled an afghan from the back of the couch and draped it over his partner, obviously content to stay with him as he dozed.

As Sheldon drifted off to sleep, he heard Mac whisper "I love you" in his ear.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"I'm damned glad that's over with," Sheldon murmured to Mac as they exited the courthouse.

The older man nodded his agreement. They had met separately with the Assistant District Attorney to give their depositions regarding Paul Sheridan's assault on Sheldon.

It had been nearly two weeks since Hawkes had been released from the rehabilitation center and he was progressing well. The casts were gone now, although he still walked with the aid of a cane and tired easily. He was scheduled to return to work, light duty only, on Monday.

Personally Mac objected, believing it was still too soon, but he knew he couldn't overrule Sheldon on this. The younger man had been released by his doctors. The one time Mac had tried to broach the subject Hawkes had simply looked at him, while sweetly asking who was the doctor in their household.

Mac had been blindsided enough by the "household" comment that he didn't immediately pursue the release to work. And then he had realized he needed to trust Sheldon to know his own needs and limits. Much as he wanted to, he couldn't shelter the younger man or it would turn to smothering. And nothing killed a relationship faster.

Mac checked his watch. "It's just about five. Why don't we stop for something to eat and then head home for–"

"Dessert?" Sheldon broke in, grinning wickedly.

Taylor blushed furiously. The comment was innocuous enough that anyone around them probably wouldn't have noticed but the thought of being intimate with Sheldon tested his control more each day.

"You'll be screaming for more than ice cream–" the other man growled.

"Sheldon!"

Both men startled at the call and turned toward the source. Mac relaxed slightly as he recognized Justin Mellick approaching them. He couldn't help watch the other man, caught by the lean, fluid grace and striking good looks. Mellick and Sheldon must have been a beautiful couple.

Meanwhile Sheldon had been doing some studying of his own, observing Mac's reaction. The spark of possessiveness didn't bother him, he knew it was natural and that Mac had a handle on it. Instead, it spread warmth coiling through his belly and up around his heart. It had been a long time since anyone had felt that way about him. Too long.

But enough was enough and Mac deserved to know there was no competition whatsoever.

Assuring that Justin was still out of earshot, Hawkes leaned close and whispered, "He's ancient history, remember? And before you get any ideas, you're mine… got it?"

Mac's eyes widened slightly, and then he grinned and nodded once, indicating he'd understood the implied message, that Justin meant nothing to either of them beyond an old acquaintance.

"Sheldon, it's good to see you again. You look good," Justin said as he joined them. "Nice to see you, Detective." Mellick politely nodded to Mac.

"Likewise." Sheldon's smile was genuine. Justin would always hold a special place in his heart.

"The ADA told me you'd be here today." Again the wide grin. "I was hoping to bump into you, since we're here for the same reason."

"Paul Sheridan," Mac stated, his eyes narrowing in anger.

Justin nodded, his own expression darkening. Turning back to Sheldon, he said, "Listen, I've wanted to apologize for what happened. I swear to you I had no idea Paul would do something like that. I didn't even know it was him at first, and when I did realize, I went straight to the police."

"I know." Hawkes nodded. "One of the detectives filled me in. It's okay, Justin. You did everything you could."

Mellick nodded, still clearly unhappy about the situation. Then he smiled. "Hey, you free tonight? We could go for dinner, or drinks if you want."

"I can't, Justin. I'm not free," Sheldon gently explained. He fought the temptation to reach out and take Mac's hand, knowing the proprietary gesture wasn't needed.

"Oh. Okay, maybe another night, then?" Justin asked hopefully.

Hawkes gave him a sad smile. "No, I meant I'm not available anymore. I'm seeing someone else and it's pretty serious."

Justin flushed, but nodded understanding as he said, "I'm happy for you, Shel. I just hope he's good to you."

"He is, trust me," Sheldon assured, careful not to look in Mac's direction. "Keep in touch, though, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." With a wave, Mellick headed for the exit.

Once the other man was out of earshot, Sheldon turned to Mac and murmured, "Let's go home and celebrate, huh?

The corners of Mac's mouth lifted in a small smile and he nodded. He didn't ask what they were celebrating; it didn't matter. What mattered was they were celebrating together.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sheldon woke the next morning to an empty bed. He frowned as he looked at the alarm clock. It was just barely past 6:30 a.m. so where the hell was Mac? Rolling out of bed and pulling on his robe, he shuffled past the dark bathroom out to the living room where he was greeted by both dogs.

So, Mac wasn't in the shower and he hadn't taken the dogs for a walk. What, then? Huffing with frustration, Sheldon decided life could just wait until he got a cup of coffee. As he walked into the kitchen, he realized the coffeemaker was on.

His bladder reminded him that it might be a good idea to make room before adding anything so he chose to take care of business first. As he turned on the bathroom light, Sheldon noticed something on the mirror over the sink. A post-it note bearing Mac's familiar scrawl read: Shel, I got paged to a scene. You were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you. I'll see you when I get home. The coffee's fresh. Mac

Hawkes frowned as he took care of things and washed up. Although he appreciated the note, it annoyed him, too. Mac was still treating him with kid gloves. While Sheldon admitted he wasn't quite one hundred percent yet, he was more than ready for certain activities.

After they had gotten home from the courthouse yesterday, they had made dinner and watched a baseball game on television. The sexual tension between them had been high, but Sheldon hadn't wanted to be the one to make the first move. He knew what he wanted, he just needed to be sure it was Mac's desire, too.

And he wasn't disappointed. By the bottom of the first inning, he was sitting in Mac's embrace on the sofa. By the top of the third inning, they were stretched out together, sharing languid kisses. The desire in Mac's eyes and body was clear.

"Bedroom," the older man finally whispered and Sheldon had complied with haste.

They were both hot for it and neither lasted beyond a few hand strokes. It was over almost before it began.

Sheldon had wanted more, but his body wasn't paying attention. Neither was Mac. The older man insisted he wasn't ready for anything that strenuous, and given that Sheldon had fallen asleep soon after, he couldn't really argue.

But tonight… tonight would be a different story entirely.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac sighed as he glanced at the clock. It was only 2:30, nowhere near the end of shift. Although he had come in early…

It's your job, he sharply reminded himself.

With a start of shock, he remembered shadows of these internal conversations from before Claire's– Well, when Claire was still alive.

And on the heels of that thought, Mac wondered why he should be so surprised. He loved Sheldon without question. It only stood to reason that he would want to spend as much time with his lover as possible. Lover.

The thought still made him shiver, and Mac was grateful he was alone in his office at the moment.

Inspiration hit and he picked up the phone and dialed the now familiar number. It took four rings for it to be answered and Mac was just beginning to worry when Sheldon answered.

"H'lo?"

Mac frowned at the breathless voice. "Shel, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," the other man assured. "Just missing you, that's all."

"I'll be home at the usual time. Think you can hold out until then?" Mac teased.

"Mmm…." Sheldon pretended to think on it. "Gonna be hard. Don't be late or I might start without you."

"Don't even think about it," Taylor growled.

"Ah-hah! Not too pleasant when the shoes on the other foot, is it?" Sheldon chuckled. "And given that you're the one who dialed the phone and I know you're not calling me out to a scene, I'd say I'm not the only one feeling a bit lonely."

Mac laughed softly. "Looks like I'm busted." A knock on his door caught his attention and he looked up to see Stella waving a file at him. He nodded and motioned her in. "I've got to go. Yes, you know I do. You know I can't. Sheld–" And he was talking to empty air. Staring at the phone in confusion, he hung it up after remembering that Stella had entered his office.

The Greek woman snickered, not even bothering to try to disguise it.

"Ain't love grand," she mused, still grinning.

He glared at her, not feeling any need for words.

Undaunted, she handed over the file. "The Kearny case is closed, just needs your signature on it."

Mac reviewed it, something he rarely did with Stella, knowing it would irk her. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from showing any satisfaction when she huffed in disgust.

"Just sign the damned thing!" she snapped, holding out her hand impatiently.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You expect me to sign off on something I haven't thoroughly checked? I wouldn't be a very good supervisor, now would I?" After skimming it for a few more moments, he signed it and handed it back.

Stella narrowed her eyes. "You know, you really should go home and get some, Mac – for the good of the office."

"What did you just say?" Mac growled, standing up and taking a step out around the desk.

She didn't back down. Meeting his gaze levelly, she said more slowly, "For the good of the office and to save me from shooting you in places that Sheldon wouldn't appreciate, go home and get L-A-I-D!"

For one of the few times in his life, Mac was dumbfounded. He wasn't sure if he should thank Stella for her insight or reprimand her as only a Marine could… within an inch of her life.

Fortunately for them both, the matter was taken out of his hands when she headed for the door, smiling sweetly.

"I'll type up a letter of reprimand and leave it on your desk for you to do what you want tomorrow. But for now, go home. It'll save me the hassle of having to file all the paperwork required for discharging my weapon at city personnel."

Mac let her go without comment, deciding it was the easiest route. And besides, he couldn't deny that he was eager to get home to Sheldon. There had been something not quite right in the other man's voice and he wanted to know what it was.

Decision made, he shut down his computer, locked his desk and headed out for the night.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Mac stifled a relieved sigh as he pulled out his key-ring. The trip home had seemed to take forever today.

As he slipped the key into the lock, Taylor couldn't help smiling. Home. Though his legal address was still his apartment, more and more of his belongings had migrated to Sheldon's loft. While he knew that living together was a risky proposition, Mac had no intention of broadcasting it, and knew Sheldon wouldn't either.

The door opened with well-maintained ease and Mac slipped inside quietly, not wanting to disturb his lover if the younger man were sleeping. But as soon as he set foot in the door Mac knew that wasn't the case. From the looks of things, sleep was the last thing on Hawkes' mind.

White and green votive candles were placed throughout the main area. Their flames flickered in the draft of the open door. Mac's gaze was drawn to the floor, where a path of red votives led straight to the bedroom.

The loft's silence finally penetrated and Mac realized the dogs were nowhere in sight. That was a relief. The dogs seemed to have a problem with physical affection between their humans and usually objected strenuously, and vocally.

Curiosity piqued, Mac followed the trail to the bedroom, not even bothering to shed jacket or gun. His pulse raced with anticipation. Sheldon had gone to a lot of effort to set this up. No wonder he had sounded odd on the phone earlier.

The scent of sandalwood teased his nose as Mac approached the bedroom door. It was closed but not on the latch, so he pushed it just far enough to allow him access. He gasped in astonishment as he took in the large assortment of candles scattered throughout the room. They seemed to frame the bed though none were in a location to create a fire hazard.

What really caught his attention was the sight of Sheldon, lying naked and oiled, in the center of the large bed. Lit only by the candlelight, his body appeared bronzed, shining in the glow of the candles. He was reclining on his left side, legs spread as he slowly prepared himself with a dildo Mac recognized as one of his own favorites.

His cock reacted ahead of his brain, standing up and taking note and Mac groaned as it rubbed against the constriction of his clothing. Shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it on a nearby chair, he loosened his tie next, still watching Sheldon's languid performance.

"You started without me." It wasn't an accusation. Quite.

"That's because… uhn … you were playing hard to get," the other man murmured, his eyes sliding shut and a shiver racing through him.

Mac watched in fascination, sure he'd never seen anything hotter in his life. Realizing Sheldon had no intention of stopping on his own, the older man stripped off the rest of his clothing in record time.

Grasping Sheldon's hand, he growled, "You'd damned well better not finish without me. Got it?"

"It's about time!" Hawkes' grin was predatory, his teeth gleaming in the light. "What took you so long, lover?"

Mac joined him on the bed, pulling him into a kiss. It started out searing and intense, then Taylor gentled the contact, teasing with his tongue and lightly nipping the full lips.

Sheldon reveled in the touch. This was what he'd wanted for so long. He arched up against Mac, delighting in the electric sensation of skin on skin. 

"Mac… I want you," he whispered. "Need you. Please."

The husked demand nearly undid Mac's control. He reached for the condom and lubricant which Sheldon had placed in easy reach earlier. Ripping open the packet, he handed the latex to his lover.

"I'm close," he warned.

Hawkes nodded, understanding perfectly. He knew neither of them would last long, but with luck it would be just long enough for what he had in mind. He quickly rolled the protective sheath over Mac's cock and coated it with lubricant.

It took all of Mac's formidable control not to come the moment Sheldon touched him. Reaching down, he squeezed the base of his cock until the worst of the urgency had passed.

As he moved to roll Sheldon onto his stomach, Mac felt the resistance in the younger man's body. Rolling aside, he frowned in confusion.

"Sheldon? I thought–"

"Trust me," the other man whispered, leaning forward to kiss him. He eased Mac onto his back and Taylor didn't fight him, beginning to get a sense of what Hawkes intended.

Straddling his lover's hips, Sheldon grinned as he teased, "I'm going to give you the ride of your life tonight."

"Promises, promises!" Mac immediately grunted as Hawkes grasped his cock and began lowering himself on to it. So good… so incredibly good. Tight. God, it's been so long. Not wanting to hurt the younger man, he concentrated on not thrusting just yet, letting Sheldon set the pace.

"So good," Hawkes whispered, unconsciously echoing Mac's thought. He closed his eyes, his body tense with the need to move, to expel the invader. And then the sensation passed and he relaxed.

"Sheldon…" Mac's voice was thick with desire.

"I know." Leaning forward, the younger man linked their hands together, then pressed a light kiss to Mac's lips. "I know. It's… incredible."

And he began to move. Slowly at first, then increasing as he and Mac found their rhythm together. Soon Mac was thrusting up to meet him, and after two more strokes Sheldon yelled as his lover's hard cock brushed his prostate.

Sheldon clenched his muscles, forcing Mac deeper until finally he yelled, freezing as orgasm rushed through him. He collapsed bonelessly into his lover's embrace.

One more thrust and Mac also found his release. Holding tightly to Sheldon, he rolled them over onto their sides, withdrawing gently. He noted with concern that his lover wasn't moving at all.

But in the next instant Mac noticed the younger man's beatific smile and relaxed. With a smile like that, he was sure Hawkes was fine. Reaching out, he found a strong and steady pulse, which further eased his mind.

"I'm fine," Sheldon whispered, still not moving. "Just a little overload, that's all."

Disposing of the condom in the bedside trashcan, Mac gathered his lover close and kissed his forehead.

"I know the feeling," he murmured, closing his eyes. A rumble from his stomach reminded him that lunch had been a long time ago. He really should think about dinner. Something special to thank Sheldon for the special care he'd just been given.

Another rumble had him tensing to get up. Sheldon reached out to stop him, a gentle smile on his face.

"Going somewhere?" the younger man wondered.

"I figured we both should eat after that workout." Leaning down, Mac gently kissed his lover, savoring the contact.

"You're right, we should," Hawkes answered. "And we will. In about an hour. I put a casserole in on low – nothing fancy. Figured we could nap a little, eat dinner and then negotiate what we're doing for… dessert."

The sly grin made Mac blush, but he couldn't help grinning in return. "I'm looking forward to that."

"Mmm, me too." As he pulled the older man close for another kiss, Sheldon mused that dinner just might be delayed tonight, if not ignored all together.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Epilogue: September 11, 2006

 

The doorman's call surprised Sheldon at first, until he learned the identity of the visitor. After giving permission for access, he punched in the security code and unlocked the door. Mac had been impressed at the level of security in the building, voicing his appreciation that at least one of his CSI's slept safe.

Sheldon grinned as he recalled his cheeky answer – that he slept with a loaded gun at his side. Mac had caught the double-entendre and flushed beautifully.

Hearing the chime announcing the elevator, Hawkes opened the door and greeted his guest with a warm hug.

"Stella, always good to see you." Giving her cheek a light kiss, Sheldon pulled back a bit.

"Good to see you too." She looked around the loft. "Is Mac still here? We should get going if we want to have any hope of getting seats."

From the first anniversary forward, Stella had made it a point to attend the memorial service for the fallen officers and firefighters. This year she had been prepared to go on her own but Sheldon had made it a point to include her in their plans, knowing how Mac valued her support. Mac's gratitude had told him he had made the right decision.

"He's in the bedroom. I'll go get him," Hawkes answered.

"Just don't get lost!" she warned, snickering at his wordless answer lifted high in the air for her to see.

Stella couldn't help watching him walk down the hall, enjoying the sight. Even if he was as good as married to her best friend, there was still no law against looking.

Looking around, she once again admired the tastefully decorated loft. Not that she would have expected anything less from Sheldon Hawkes. The man sometimes seemed ill fit for the down and dirty profession of a CSI. And yet he undeniably excelled at it.

New picture frames on the mantel caught her attention and Stella walked over to examine it. There among the pictures of Sheldon and his brother, the team at one of their Christmas parties and various pictures of the dogs at play now sat a framed picture of Mac and Claire, taken the summer before she had been killed. And in the center was a larger picture of Mac and Sheldon standing face to face, exchanging a kiss. The love between them showed clearly even in this brief moment and it made her throat ache with longing.

They were so right for each other, so good together. And they had come so close to losing it all. Fate had seen fit to give them a second chance, thankfully.

The bedroom door opened and Mac walked down the hall, followed by his partner. Both men were dressed in somber suits, wearing their engraved bracelets honoring their lost.

Stella met them halfway, greeting Mac as she had Sheldon, with a hug and kiss. Her long-time friend was tense and quiet, and for once she didn't try to tease or bully him out of the mood. Instead she just reached out and straightened his tie.

"You guys ready to go?" Sheldon asked, grabbing his keys from the table by the door. 

"Not really, but…" Mac's gruff voice trailed off.

Hawkes closed the distance between them, enveloping his lover in a tight hug. 

"We'll be okay, Mac," he whispered. "Neither of us is alone anymore. We have each other. We'll get each other through."

Mac returned the fierce hug, closing his eyes for a moment as he savored the contact. She was right. This year was different.

Love had given him a second chance.


End file.
